


A Chance Encounter [Fred Weasley x OC]

by sparrowlina



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Mental Instability, Siblings, Slow Burn, Weasley Family, Weasley twins, sparrowlina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 07:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 67,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15625836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowlina/pseuds/sparrowlina
Summary: When a new worker steps into the lives of Fred and George Weasley, it isn't hard to see that she blends in seamlessly with the twins and their pranking natures. What happens when one twin falls hard and they all get tangled into her family matters?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy my first story on this site! Leave me a comment to let me know what you think! :)
> 
> With Love,  
> sparrowlina

Fred and George Weasley's shop in Diagon Alley couldn't have been more of a success if they had tried. Their sense of humor was channeled through the various toys, knick knacks, and pranking products and shined bright in such a dark time for the wizarding world. Evil had been infecting every place that had once been lively and joyous, Diagon Alley being no stranger to the virus. In fact, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was the only shop that was still open .

Hogwarts students flooded through the shop during their last week of freedom. School supply lists had been checked off and all that was left was to buy a few laughs before the term began.

"How much for this?" Ron asked his twin brothers that stood on the staircase leading to the second floor of the shop.

"5 galleons," they answered in unison.

"Well, how much for me?" Ron asked, disappointment running across his face.

"5 galleons," the twins confirmed.

"But I'm your brother."

They both shrugged. "10 galleons."

Their sister Ginny and family friend Hermione Granger were looking through the various displays throughout the shop, weaving their way in and out of the people that were crowding the floor. Harry Potter was at the other end of the store, looking through the various items for sale, particularly the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

As the twins stood on the landing between the first and second floor, George said to Fred, "Freddie, we actually did it."

"I know, Georgie, I know."

He gazed below and watched all of their eager patrons leave with bags full of goodies. Something peculiar caught his eye, though: a red headed girl kneeling down to help a young boy pick out a product. He watched as her face was nearly as excited as the boy's as she showed him several different things off of the shelf. He was nearly convinced that the boy was somehow related, a cousin or brother, until the boy's mother walked over and thanked the girl for helping her son. The two left, the giant grin apparent on the boy's face as he held his package with great elation.

"Georgie," he called to his brother.

George walked over from the other side of the landing and leaned against the railing next to Fred. "Yes?"

"You ever thought that we could use some help around here?"

"Thought never crossed my mind."

Fred watched the girl with some intensity, tracking her movement through the crowd. She was now at the register and paying her total.

"Should we start hiring? And you have about 10 seconds to decide."

George looked down at the crowd trying to spot what Fred was seeing. "I swear to god, Fred, if this is a scheme to pick up a girl I swear I'll–"

"Promise it's not."

George rolled his eyes. "Fine. She better be good."

Fred's trademark grin to his brother was there and gone in a flash, Fred jogging as quickly and coolly down the stairs to intercept the girl as she walked from the register to the door.

The girl was lost in her own thoughts, thinking about how her brother would enjoy all of the pranks and knick knacks she had bought for him. In all honesty, she knew not everything in her bag was for him. What good was a pranking war if you supplied everything to the enemy? She always kept good things for herself. The excuse to her brother was that if he wanted good ammo, he should go with her to the shop.

His excuse for not going always led back to wanting to go with his friends. Not being seen with his older sister was another reason, though. He was in his "I don't want people to know we're related" stage.

As her mind was lost in thinking about her brother, she didn't realize that she was being blocked from leaving. She immediately crashed into someone, knocking her backwards so that she landed on the floor. A space had cleared as she fell, but as she regained her orientation, she saw the figure waving everyone off as to say it was okay. The hustle and bustle of the store continued as it had prior, not missing a beat.

"So sorry, ma'am," the figure apologized, a hand reaching out to help her.

She propped herself up and held her head, willing the pain to go away. "Shouldn't block people from where they're going like that."

"And maybe some people should pay attention to where they're walking. I was standing here for a good amount of time."

She looked up to see a fiery head of red hair attached to a very well dressed man. His smile was happy and somewhat apologetic, his hand still extended to assist her up. She took it reluctantly, the man bringing her to her feet and helping collect her items from the floor.

He looked over her items.

She wondered what was going through his mind as he inspected her haul.

"All this for you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "My brother loves all of these products. He's gotten in trouble a few times at home because he's used them on our mum. Never stops him from buying them."

"Or you from buying them for him."

She shrugged with a smirk. "I see no difference."

The man chuckled. "The name's Fred Weasley."

The girl smiled as she offered her hand for a handshake. "Clarissa Caxton. This is your shop?"

Fred took the girl's hand and shook it gently, and nodded. "You like it?"

She nodded, starting to look overhead and around the shop. "I love it, almost as much as my brother does."

He nodded, joining in her gaze. "It's me and my brother's baby, I must say."

She brought her focus back to the man in front of her. "You and your brother have done a great thing by opening this place. I can't tell you how many of my brother's friends can't stop talking about the things they get here and how much fun they have."

Fred laughed in appreciation. "Seems like you're just as intrigued by all of this stuff. It's okay – it's not just for the young ones."

She laughed. "Oh yes, I know. I've always seen this shop as more for the…young at heart."

He nodded in response. "Not to be creepy or anything, but I saw you helping out a young boy earlier. What was that about?"

She thought back a moment, trying to pin point what Fred was talking about. "Oh, the one who bought the Puking Pasties?"

Fred nodded with a smirk.

"Well, he was trying to find a good treat to give to his older brother. It was more of a 'he got me and I want to get him back' kind of purchase. His mom was a good sport about it. He couldn't decide what he wanted so I helped him out."

"Did you know him?"

She shook her head. "But I've been on the receiving end of some of these pranks, so I figured I'd give him a good recommendation."

He laughed. "You're not in any rush, are you?"

Clarissa shrugged. "I told mum I'd be home to help with dinner. Apparating makes the journey right quick, though."

"I don't want to keep you long. Let me walk you out."

Clarissa smiled in appreciation as Fred stepped aside so she could lead them out of the shop.

As they stepped out, the warmth and joy from inside, unfortunately, didn't follow. The run down look of the alley always made Clarissa feel sad. She remembered when she was a young student and how vibrant the alley had once been. Seeing places like Ollivander's run down and closed made her heart ache.

"It's a shame," she said, gazing down the alley.

"It'll be back eventually," Fred reassured, standing next to his newfound companion.

She nodded. "Well, Mr. Weasley, I appreciated this little chat." She looked up at him with a smile. "I'm sure this isn't the last you'll be seeing of me."

He smiled. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a proposal for you."

"So soon? My dear man, we've just met."

Fred laughed, a little heartier than he had realized, causing Clarissa to chuckle and break her serious character for a moment.

"Oh, I'm sure this will be a proposal you won't deny."


	2. Chapter 2

"Mum, I'm home!" she called out into her house. Her arms held several bags: groceries, errands for her mother, and the one package that she knew her brother was going to tackle her for. She could already hear his footsteps running down the hall from the other side of the house.

"What'd you get me?" he asked in excitement.

"I'll tell you once you finish peeling these potatoes," she said, handing her brother one of the bags.

A disappointed look washed over his face as he stared into the sack.

She ruffled his hair with her hand with a smile as she walked to the kitchen to drop off the groceries. Her mother was already there, washing dishes from earlier in the day.

"What's all the commotion about?" her mother asked as Clarissa set the bags on the counter. She looked over and saw the bag from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and sighed. "Not those things again."

"It makes him happy, mum," she replied, "and gives us all a good laugh. Admit it."

"If your father was here…"

Clarissa rolled her eyes as she left the kitchen and jogged upstairs. She wanted to empty her lot before giving the bag to her brother, keeping all of the good things she wanted for herself.

Her house wasn't a big one. There was just enough room for her small family. She had two more brothers, although she only ever said she had one older brother. That one, Roman, was five years older than her and was in Romania helping study dragons. It had been his passion ever since he had gone to Hogwarts and talked with the groundskeeper about mystical creatures. He had developed a great passion for them and dragons just tickled his fancy.

Her other brother, though, she hadn't seen in years. Griffin was her elder by three years and had a heart as cold as ice. From a young age, she had always been afraid of him. He'd prank her to the point of tears and never showed much remorse for anyone. When he went to Hogwarts, it was no surprise that he had been sorted into Slytherin. As the years went by, her family saw less and less of him. His activities were always a secret and he'd grown even more cold than he was in his childhood. The summer after Cedric Diggory had been killed during the Triwizard Tournament was the last time her family had ever seen Griffin.

And to Clarissa, it was a good riddance.

As she walked back downstairs, she was happy to see that her younger brother, Michael, had indeed finished peeling the potatoes as she had asked and was now helping their mother prepare the other veggies for that night's meal. She dropped the package near his knapsack in the parlor and walked into the kitchen to help with whatever else needed to be prepped.

Michael was a fourth year at Hogwarts. He was enjoying all of his classes, having a particular gift with Charms. He loved Quidditch and was playing for Gryffindor during the coming school year. He could play as a Chaser or a Beater.

Looking at the four Caxton children, though, one never would have guessed that Clarissa was related to any of her brothers. The boys had all inherited their dark hair from their father, freckles lightly dusted across their faces. Clarissa, on the other hand, had hair that was a deep red color, matching her mother's. Her face was also freckle free, aside from the random beauty marks that graced her features. Michael always threatened to connect her beauty marks with a marker, the taunt always being met with a quick whack to the back of his head by their mother.

"So, I ran into an interesting person when I was in Diagon Alley today," Clarissa started, checking on the boiling potatoes at the stove.

"Oh?" her mother asked.

"Was it a boy? Because if it was I don't wanna hear about it," Michael announced, his face going sour.

Clarissa laughed. "Actually it was a boy," she replied with a smirk, "and he offered me a job."

Clarissa's mom turned to her with eyebrows raised. "Really? Did you apply for it?"

"No, he just stopped me when I was in their store and asked if I'd be interested."

"Which shop? There isn't anything open in Diagon Alley except–" Michael turned quick on his heels when he made the connection. "You're going to work at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?!"

Clarissa laughed as she nodded and opened the oven door for her mother to check the roast.

"Are you sure it's legitimate?" her mother asked.

Overly cautious as always.

"The owner offered me the job, so I'm sure that it's perfectly safe, Mum."

"Was it George? Or Fred?" Michael asked, his interest suddenly captured.

"Fred," Clarissa clarified. "I start tomorrow."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next day, Clarissa walked up to the entrance of the twins' joke shop and knocked on the door. It was an hour prior to opening and she was excited. It was a chance to help her mother out in a way that wasn't just doing chores around the house. Although, Clarissa had made her fair share of sacrifices for her family that went unnoticed by her mother a lot of the time.

"Hello!" a twin greeted at the door. "You must be a Clarissa."

She nodded, extending a hand to the man. "Are you a George?"

He nodded as he shook her hand. "Welcome aboard. I hear you're quite familiar with our products."

"Unfortunately too familiar with some."

George laughed as he stepped aside to let Clarissa in.

It was a strange sight to see the shop empty. None of the displays were active yet and there was a quietness – as if the shop was asleep.

"Good mo-o-orning," she heard a familiar voice call from above.

Clarissa looked up to see Fred standing in his three-piece suit ready for the day. "First off, we need to get you dressed properly."

Clarissa looked down at her outfit: a t-shirt and jeans.

"Anything in mind?" she called up.

"Come on up and we'll get you set."

One outfit change later, Clarissa stood in front of a mirror straightening her tie. She was wearing a vest and long sleeved collared shirt, a pencil skirt matching the color of the vest. The color scheme, she was told, would be ever changing throughout the day which intrigued her greatly. Her fiery hair was tied back in a bun, any loose hairs pinned back.

She walked downstairs to see Fred and George talking near one of the displays.

"Alright, what do you need me to do?"

They both looked at her with smiles she knew either meant trouble or appreciation. She felt that it would take some time to figure out the difference.

"We'll show you how to set up the displays over this next week, but for the most part just do what you did yesterday," Fred answered. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Clarissa nodded as she followed the twins to each display, learning how to set it up and what spells did what. Soon the entire store was alive and jumping, the voice of a tiny Umbridge calling out and saying that "she will have order."

"Brilliant. Ready Freddie?"

"Ready Georgie."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Her first week had been a blast. From helping customers to joking with the twins, she couldn't help but feel as if this was where she was meant to be. Fred and George were even kind enough to give her free samples of new products for her brother, who was extremely happy to receive them.

That next Monday, she had asked Fred and George for time off in the morning so that she could drop off her brother at King's Cross Station. It was time for him to go back to Hogwarts for the new school year.

As the two walked through the barrier to Platform 9 3/4, she could sense a feeling of hesitation from her brother.

"You alright, Mikey?" she asked.

He looked at her with slight shame as he pushed his trolley. "You think I'll be alright this year?"

She had to admit, she understood his hesitation considering how his three years of school went. He had a hard time when she was still in school, but now he was completely on his own.

She pulled him into a tight embrace and stroked his head a few times. "If you need me, you can always write."

He nodded, starting to push her away slightly. "Someone's gonna see."

She laughed as she punched him lightly on the shoulder. She looked past him and saw that his other friends were just now arriving on the platform.

"Okay, well you have all your books? Your owl? Extra knickers?"

Michael laughed as he nodded to each item.

"Then you'll be fine. Have fun."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

She arrived back at the shop to see that the traffic was much slower than what it had been during the summer. It made sense, though, since not many adults were going to pass through unless they had kids younger than schooling age.

Closing time seemed to take forever to come for the three workers. Clarissa started to walk through the various displays at one corner of the shop, waving her wand to silence them. Fred was doing the same on the other side, noting her quietness.

"Everything go alright this morning?" he asked her.

"Hm? Oh, it was fine," she answered, peering out of the shop window at the stars overhead. She paused a moment before asking, "You still have siblings going to Hogwarts, right?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure Mum would rather they not be there," George answered from above.

"Mine too. My brother's going into his fourth year."

"Oh yeah? What house?" Fred asked.

"Gryffindor. Just like my oldest brother."

"What house were you?"

"Hufflepuff." She pulled up a stool and sat down to face the two brothers. George had now made it to the first floor.

"So, if you're a year younger than us, why aren't you going to school this term?" he asked.

She sighed. "My mum…she needs all the help she can get at home for now. Even last year I was in and out quite a bit. Made more sense to just not finish school, I suppose."

The twins looked at one another then returned their focus on the girl in front of them.

"Well we know a thing or two about leaving school early," Fred said, attempting to lift the mood.

"And we know that it doesn't always lead to bad things. I mean just look at this," George added, gesturing around them.

Clarissa looked around and smiled. "Yes, definitely one of the best results of skipping school."


	3. Chapter 3

A month had gone by, Clarissa's bond with the twins getting very tight very fast. They all thought on the same wavelength, had the same sense of humor, and she even got to help develop some new products with them. It was a great partnership to have and she was appreciative of all of the laughs they'd share on a daily basis. They'd always thought it was strange that they hadn't run into each other earlier while in school. Regardless, they were thankful for the bond they had formed in the present.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Clara!" George called out, the twins waving at her prior to apparating.

She had finally gotten comfortable with them to have her call her by her nickname. The only person who still called her by her entire name was her mother.

And Roman if he was having a serious conversation with her.

After apparating home, a smile still on her face, she looked up at her house and suddenly felt a sinking feeling.

The all the lights in the house weren't on and she could see the curtains from one of the downstairs windows blowing through a large hole where the glass used to be. The wind outside blew a little colder than normal, a silence settling on the property that Clara was all too familiar with. 

She immediately dropped her stuff, drew her wand, and slowly made for the front door.

It creaked open without the use of much force, Clara's wand steady in front of her. It was much darker inside than she anticipated, her eyes darting from place to place in search of some form of movement. Her heart was pounding in her ears, palms starting to sweat. Various trinkets and picture frames were strewn about the floor in pieces and the wallpaper was shredded to bits as if someone had clawed at them for hours.

She didn't want to make herself known, but she knew he had to.

"Mum?" she called out.

Suddenly, a great shout caught her attention.

"GET OUT!" her mother roared at her.

Clara ducked in time to narrowly miss a chair being flung at her head.

"Mum, it's me!" she answered back to the voice. She walked slowly towards her mother who was standing in the dining room, her shoes feeling the crunch of broken glass and porcelain under her feet.

"Of course I know it's you! Why do you think I threw the bloody chair?!" her mother shouted. "And where were you this time, hm? Always leaving the house doing God knows what with God knows who."

"I was at work, Mum. I'm trying to help you," she answered. She forced a calm tone out of herself. If she shouted back at her mother, she knew things wouldn't get any better.

Without warning, her mother shot a curse at her. Clara jumped out of the way and rolled on her side, some glass getting stuck in her arm. She hissed slightly as she stood up once again, wand at the ready.

"Mum, you need to calm down." Clara's words were slow and deliberate, as if she really believed that she would be able to talk her mother out of yet another episode.

Her mother's breaths were deep and raged, another wave of her wand sending items flying across the room and smashing into the wall.

Clara glanced at a medicine package that sat with her mother's belongings in the parlor: unopened.

"Mum, I don't want to call them again. You need to calm down."

"TO HELL WITH YOU!" she shouted once again. She shot another curse towards Clara that she was too slow to dodge.

She cringed a little, waiting to feel the pain of the spell. But there was nothing.

"I hate being related to you," her mother growled under her breath from across the room, "and now no one can tell you're my daughter."

She wasn't sure what she meant, but the words bore into Clara as if her mother had thrown daggers at her. She took a deep breath, a few tears falling down from her face as she shot a body binding curse across the room.

Ms. Caxton fell to the floor, yelling at the top of her lungs.

The fireplace began to spark and pop with life as Clara collected herself and sat on the couch opposite it. She rested her forehead on her palms as her elbows leaned on her knees. She took deep breaths to collect herself, knowing what was coming next.

Soon, several people flew through the fireplace dressed in white. She recognized several of the faces, this not being their first visit to the house. They immediately walked to her mother and proceeded to pick her up.

"YOU WHORE!" her mother yelled at her. "DON'T YOU LET THEM TAKE ME." Ms. Caxton cursed at several of the men who were now carrying her outside to be apparated back to St. Mungo's.

Clara took one last deep breath and stood up to look around the room once her mother wasn't in it. One last witch came through the fireplace, her robes suggesting that she was more than part of the usual pick up service. Her face was slender, her porcelain skin making her appear ghost-like. Her jet black hair was pulled into a tight bun, a streak of white racing from the front of her head to the bun. Her copper-colored eyes gazed at Clara behind half-moon spectacles, one eyebrow lifted with expectancy.

"Miss Caxton," she addressed.

"Miss Sauveur," Clara replied.

The two watched through the window as Clara's mother was soon put to sleep to make transportation easier. The last thing needed at St. Mungo's was to have her trigger other patients that were there.

"I feel as if I shouldn't have to make this speech to a person more than once," Sauveur began. She pushed some of the glass aside with her feet as she turned to face Clara. "I do feel very strongly that this is not the right place for your mother."

Clara scoffed as she walked through the living room. She knelt down to pick up a picture frame that held an image she thought that her mother had long ago destroyed: a family photo of her mother with all of her children.

"She'll trigger much more easily with each episode," Sauveur noted in the background. "It will only get worse, Clarissa."

She sighed, frustrated tears falling from her eyes. "It's not so simple to admit your mother into a madhouse, you know."

"But it would be best for you. Best for Michael–"

"You don't know what's best for this family," Clara curtly interrupted.

"I understand how broken it already is," Sauveur stated with a hard tone.

Clara turned to face her with furrowed brows.

"She needs help. We can give her that help. In time, I'm sure she'll be able to come back. But she cannot stay here."

Clara sighed, tossing the frame to the ground with the rest of the broken items that sat around her. "Let me talk to my brother."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"Absolutely not."

"Roman, you don't understand how bad it's getting."

"I'm not letting you throw mum in there like that."

"Trust me, if I had any other choice, I'd go with that. She pretty much destroyed half of the house."

"Which isn't any different than usual."

Clara sighed. "Roman, I understand that it's hard for you, but it's harder for Michael and I."

"Did Sauveur brainwash you or something?"

"Roman I–"

"Don't listen to that woman! She's just trying to rip us apart more and more. After dad died, we wanted to keep this family together remember? And after what Griffin did–"

"ROMAN!" she shouted. Clara buried her face in her hands as she sat in front of the fireplace.

Her brother grew quiet. It was unlike his sister to get fired up. It was unlike her to seek help. It was unlike her to cry openly, which was what he could see from her now.

"I can't do this anymore," she told him between tears.

She could hear him sigh as the fire crackled around his face. "I'm sorry, Clara."

She was quiet aside from a few sniffles.

"I'm not supporting this, but do what you need to do. I'll be home in a few months."

Clara nodded as she stood up and walked away from her fireplace in the kitchen. She trudged her way up the stairs as she wiped the last few stray tears away from her face.

As she walked past a mirror in the hallway, she froze in her tracks. Taking a few steps backwards, she gasped when she saw what was in the mirror. Her red locks that made her stand out from her brothers was no more, a head of brown hair replacing it. Immediately, she pulled out her wand and started to say every charm she could remember that would possibly reverse the change.

But nothing worked.

Her mother got what she wanted.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next day at work, Clara was much quieter in the morning than she usually was.

"Whaddyu think happened to Clara?" Fred asked George as they watched her from the second floor.

"Dunno. Must've been big though. Never heard her this quiet in my life. Maybe she's going through a crisis?"

Fred rolled his eyes at his brother.

"What? She's being unusually quiet and she changed her hair color. Next thing you know she'll be flying 'round here with a brand new broomstick."

"I'm gonna check on her while you sort out your crazy ideas," Fred stated as he proceeded to walk downstairs, putting on his classic Fred smile in an attempt to brighten Clara's day.

"Good mo-o-o-orning," he greeted, leaning into Clara and nudging her shoulder with his.

She looked up at him and shot him the fakest smile he had ever seen her try to put on. "Good morning." She continued to start up the various displays without casting him another glance. He noticed that she was subconsciously pulling on the braid that trailed down the right side of her neck.

As she walked past him, he took hold of one of her shoulders. The sudden contact caused her to look at him very quickly, her eyes begging him not to ask questions.

"You alright?" he asked with some hesitation.

He noted the puffiness in her eyes and the bags that came with a lack of sleep.

She nodded. "I'm fine. I had a late night last night."

"O-o-oh does someone have a boyfriend?" George gushed.

Clara smirked as she rolled her eyes. "Even if I did, I wouldn't just spill the details." She proceeded to chuckle as she continued opening up the rest of the shop.

Fred could see that she was trying really hard to cover up whatever was going on, but he let it go.

At least for the time being.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, you busy with anything tonight?" Fred asked Clara as they closed up shop for the day.

"Um…I had a few things to clean up at my house, but nothing really aside from that."

Fred nodded as he brought some boxes from the store room to stock shelves with for the next day. "Our mum invited us to dinner tonight. You fancy joining us?"

Clara raised her eyebrows slightly, which caused Fred to tense up in nervousness.

After some time, she answered, "The things I have at home…I really need to take care of."

She watched as the look of hope fell from Fred's face and immediately felt guilty.

"Oh, okay. Maybe next time then," he uttered, a smirk attempting to hide the disappointment.

As he walked away and began to restock one of the shelves, Clara called out, "Well…I won't take that long at home."

He looked up at her with a beaming smile. "So seven o'clock?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

After Clara had left the shop, Fred and George locked up and had apparated back to the Burrow. George had dropped them a little further away from the house than normal.

"Why so far tonight, mate?" Fred asked, starting to walk back to their home.

George pulled on his shoulder, causing Fred to look back at him with some annoyance.

"Can you be straight with me and tell me if you fancy Clara or not?" George asked with a smirk, a teasing tone in his voice.

"Shove off," Fred answered with a grin, pulling away from his brother's grip. "She's nice. I think she's going through a hard time right now."

"True, but inviting her to a family dinner? People will start to wonder."

The two began to walk back to the Burrow.

"I don’t even know enough about her. And neither do you. Maybe we'll get to know her better if we treat her more like family."

"I suppose. She is our only worker."

"That's the spirit, Georgie," Fred laughed, opening the door and enjoying the smells of his mother's home cooking.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

A knock at the door came a little after 7:15.

Fred was the first to rush to the door, George and his mother exchanging looks as they continued to set the table.

Opening the door, he saw Clara staring out at the marsh. She was wearing a light brown cardigan with a white tank underneath, jeans, and brown boots. Her hair was still in its usual bun and she was carrying a black handbag along with a brown paper bag.

"Welcome to the Burrow," he greeted.

She turned to Fred, a small smile gracing her face. "It's wonderful out here," she greeted.

"It's home," he replied, moving out of the way.

"Clara!" George greeted, "We were wondering if you were going to come."

"Sorry, I got caught up with some stuff."

"Not to worry, dear, the food just finished cooking so you're right on time. I'm Mrs. Weasley," Molly introduced. She brought her into a warm hug, Clara being instantly reminded of the hugs her mother used to give.

"Mr. Weasley should be down momentarily, then we can start the meal."

"It looks fantastic. Oh, and here's the other reason I was a little tied up." Clara set the brown bag on the table and pulled out a round pan. "I made a little dessert for us. Didn't know what everyone liked so I made an apple pie."

Fred walked over and gestured towards Clara's bags, Clara giving them to him to set aside.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Molly cooed. "We'll put it in the kitchen for now and dig into it later. I think I have some ice cream somewhere that'll go well with this."

Soon, Arthur came down and was introduced to their guest before they all dived into dinner.

"So the twins tell us you come from a rather large family yourself," Molly conversed.

Clara nodded between mouthfuls. "I have two older brothers and a younger brother."

"You're just like Ginny then: the only girl in the house," Arthur commented.

"Yes. I don't mind, though."

"Did you all attend Hogwarts?" Arthur asked.

She nodded. "My eldest and youngest brother were both placed in Gryffindor. I was in Hufflepuff." She didn't continue her explanation, instead taking a bite of more food.

After some time of waiting, Arthur asked, "And what about your other brother?"

Clara paused after realizing that she had, in fact, mentioned that she had three bothers. Internally, she kicked herself for it.

"Oh, my other brother was in Slytherin. Forgive me for not saying so initially. He…hasn't really been part of the family lately."

Arthur nodded, understanding the severed ties that came with kids growing up as he thought of Percy.

"Does your oldest brother do anything cool?" George asked.

"Actually, he does," Clara explained, her smile returning to her face once more. "Roman's working with dragons in Romania."

"Really? Our older brother is too!" Fred added. "Maybe they know each other."

Clara nodded. "He does talk about a Charlie Weasley a lot."

Molly smiled at the mention of her son's name. "Does your youngest brother know what he wants to do yet?" she asked, standing up to start clearing dishes from the table.

Clara wiped her mouth with a napkin as she too stood up to help clear dishes. "Right now, no. He's more focused on Charms, Quidditch, and his friends to think about his future. He's only got three more years…."

As she walked with Molly into the kitchen, she couldn't help but notice the grandfather clock that seemed to keep an eye on every family member. It was a cute display, noting that it seemed as if Fred and George's indicators had never separated much as they changed position on that clock.

"Neat, huh?" Fred asked, walking up behind Clara.

"I love it," Clara responded with a smile, turning to face Fred.

"It's gotten us in trouble more than a few times."

"I can imagine," Clara laughed.

Fred watched Clara's face glow as she smiled. Her smile was infectious. He couldn't get over how much her eyes twinkled, even if there wasn't much light around.

Maybe George was right…

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred walked Clara outside as she said goodbye to the Weasleys.

"Thank you so much for inviting me tonight, Fred," Clara thanked as the two walked a few feet away from the front door.

"Thank you for coming. It's not often anymore that mum gets to cook us a meal. It was nice to share it with someone new."

Clara smiled as she gazed overhead. "It's so beautiful out here."

Fred nodded. "I like your hair, by the way. It's a nice change."

Clara looked at him, as if she had forgotten that the change had even happened. She pulled at it again as she had done at the shop. "Oh…thank you."

"You don't like it?"

"Well…it wasn't exactly a purposeful change."

"Oh. I thought you had something against red heads that you wanted to change. Georgie and I would have been a little hurt."

Clara looked back at Fred with a playful smirk. "No, no, nothing like that. I just haven't been able to reverse the spell. It's rather annoying actually."

"Georgie and I can try to fix it tomorrow if you'll let us. Well, that's if you want it changed."

Clara shrugged. "Maybe. As long as you don't turn it any other obscene color."

"Us? Well, Clara I have to say I am extremely offended that you could ever think we'd do something of the sort!" Fred stood with a hand lightly grazing his heart, a look of half shock landing on his face.

Clara couldn't help but laugh at Fred's silliness, eliciting a smile from Fred.

After some time, Fred asked, "Do you need someone to take you home?"

Clara was slightly surprised by the offer. "Um…sure." She smiled briefly at him as she intertwined her arm in his.

Fred's smile grew as he looked down at the short brunette next to him that seemed to be brimming with life. Soon he could feel himself being whisked away through the air, his body and Clara's twisting in every which way as they apparated away from the Burrow.

He soon felt solid ground beneath his feet.

Looking around, he saw a quaint little white house standing in front of him. The yard was maintained well, a few flowers sprinkled here and there. The house had seen better days, but it looked cozy and homey. It was two stories and he could see that each window had distinctly colored curtains. One set was a reddish color and the other was more golden. He could tell which Hogwarts student each of those belonged to.

"Well, here we are," Clara commented, walking a little bit down the path towards the house. "It's not much, but it's home."

Fred nodded. "It's cute."

The corners of her mouth turned up as the two proceeded to walk up to the porch. She opened the lock with a wave of her hand and opened the door, dropping her bags just inside the house.

"Thank you for bringing me home," she thanked. "And, again, thank you for everything tonight."

"Not a problem," Fred answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Just figured you needed a pick me up."

The happy look on Clara's face faded slightly. "Is it that obvious?"

Fred scrunched his face a little as he playfully pondered the idea, before saying, "Just a little bit."

Clara pushed some stray hairs behind her ear as she sighed. "Things have been…a little more hectic around here than normal."

"Isn't your mum here to help you, though?" Fred asked.

Clara's gaze soon shifted from Fred to different parts of the yard. "She's…on a trip right now. Not too sure when she'll be back."

Fred nodded. "Oh. I see."

"Yeah," Clara replied, sadness clouding her features slightly.

The air soon became still between the two as the tension increased.

After some time, Clara broke the silence. "Fred, I appreciate everything you and your brother are doing for me. I'm just…I'm not in a good place right now."

Fred nodded, his expression dulling. "Well, if you need anything, and I mean anything, you say the word and we'll be there."

Clara nodded. "I appreciate it, Fred. Well, I've gotta be going. I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

Fred nodded with a big smile, then he turned to walk down the pathway away from Clara's house.

"Hey Fred," he heard Clara call.

He turned around to face her once more.

"I wouldn’t mind if we could do this every once in a while."

"Do what? Dinner?" Fred asked. "I figured that was already a given."

Clara laughed. "I suppose that too. I meant just…talk. Hang out."

Fred chuckled as his smile grew. "That sounds brilliant."


	5. Chapter 5

From then on, that was the habit. Fred, George, and Clara would finish work at the shop, close up, then Fred would take Clara home. They'd sometimes apparate to a place quite a distance from her house so they could walk together, sometimes they'd apparate straight there. More than a few times Clara had repaid the twins' kindness and made them dinner at her place. They'd all laugh about memories they had at Hogwarts, hearing each other's very different perspectives on school. It made for some interesting stories.

"So even Michael has one of those marks on his hand too, eh?" George asked, shoveling in another mouthful of Clara's roast chicken.

She nodded. "Mum and I were the most shocked when he came home that winter with that God awful scar. He is a really good kid. Umbridge was just so…terrible!"

Fred laughed. "I think the only person who escaped all of that was Hermione."

Clara nodded. "Hard to think that she helps Harry Potter with so many things, yet never gets in trouble."

"Yeah, what's the fun in that?" Fred asked, snickering with his brother.

The three laughed at more stories as they finished up dinner, then Clara served them each a slice of pie. She found that it was their favorite thing to eat after their mother's home cooking. She had poured them each a cup of coffee as well.

"So, exactly how long is your mother gone for?" Fred had asked. It had been about a month since he first asked Clara about it, and it seemed to be quite the extended stay for it to be just a trip.

George's eyes shifted from Fred to Clara uncomfortably as he set down his fork. Eventually his eyes rested on Clara, who was staring at the cup of coffee that sat between her two small hands.

Her lack of response prompted Fred to ask once more. "Clara?"

She looked up at him suddenly, as if she had been called out of a trance. "Sorry. It's just–"

A series of knocks came at the door.

She turned her head sharply towards the noise; her heart rate was slightly elevated, a small amount of fear running across her face. Turning back to the twins, she said quietly, "No one ever comes around here. Ever. And I'm not expecting anyone other than you two."

Both Weasleys had their wands at the ready as the trio stood up and walked towards the door. Clara walked sandwiched between the two, wand also out and directed at the door.

The knocks happened again.

Fred grabbed the knob, turning to Clara as he did so. "I'm going to open this. Whatever happens, we're here."

Clara nodded, her heart jumping to her throat as Fred twisted the knob.

The large white door swung open slowly as Clara peered around it. She was both shocked and confused as to what she saw on the other side.

"Mum?" she asked in disbelief.

There Ms. Caxton stood, smile bright and her body looking well rested. She was in a white gown that failed show any of the curves she had and her wavy, crimson-colored hair was down around her shoulders.

"There you are, Clarissa," she commented, holding out her arms and walking towards Clara to bring her in for a hug. "Oh, how I've missed you so." She held Clara in a tight embrace, her eyes closed in the bliss of holding her daughter.

Clara couldn't help but feel uncomfortable in her mother's arms. She couldn't really remember the last time she had been hugged by her mother. There was a lack of warmth and caring in this embrace in comparison to Mrs. Weasley's, which made Clara's heart sink a little lower.

Peering over Clara's shoulder, Ms. Caxton saw the twins standing at the doorway. "And who are these strapping young gentlemen?"

Clara felt her mother release her and watched as she walked towards the twins.

"These are my bosses," Clara replied, her voice sounding unsure.

"Oh how lovely to meet you," Ms. Caxton replied, shaking hands with Fred and George. "And thank you for giving my Clarissa a job opportunity at your shop."

"The pleasure is all ours actually," Fred replied.

"She's a great worker," George added, the twins sharing a look of slight worry as they read Clara's body language. She was tense, her arms rigid at her sides and her hand gripping her wand tightly. Her eyes never left her mother and a hard line was forming on her forehead.

"Well, let's all sit down and talk a bit. Can't be rude to our guests, can we Clarissa?" Ms. Caxton stated, walking past the twins into the parlor.

Clara walked back into the house and closed the door gently.

"Is everything alright?" Fred asked Clara.

A large noise beckoned Clara from the kitchen. She turned to see the small fireplace teaming with life.

She shot a look to Fred and George that told them things were not as they should be.

"Wait here."

Clara quickly rushed over to the fireplace and knelt down, surprised to see Roman looking back at her.

"Is she there?"

Clara noted the sound of urgency in Roman's voice.

"Yes."

"What is she doing?"

"Sitting with us and having coffee."

"She's dangerous, Clara. I'm coming home now. They're coming to get her."

"How long?"

"Any moment."

Roman quickly vanished from view, Clara turning to look over her shoulder towards the parlor.

"Fred, George," she called quietly. "I don't mean to be rude, but I suggest that you two…leave."

"Leave? No, something doesn't seem right and I don't want to leave until you tell us what's going on," Fred urged, his voice sounding protective.

"Fred, maybe we should–"

"George, we need to help her."

"You don't need to help me with anything." Clara's voice was stern as she walked towards the twins. "Now please leave before–"

A stronger knock came at the door.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Fine. You want to help, distract my mother in the parlor." She pushed past the twins, Fred noting that her grip on her wand was tight.

When she was out of sight, George pushed Fred on the shoulder. "Good going, you git."

Fred ignored his brother and they both walked into the parlor, seeing Ms. Caxton on the couch sipping on a cup of coffee.

Clara opened the front door to be greeted by a rough looking man in a fur coat. His slender face hadn't been shaven for white some time and his hazel eyes were piercing, even in the dim light that shone on their porch. His fair skin was dusted with dirt and had a few scars etched upon it, his stubble hiding whatever it could.

"She still in the parlor?" his gruff voice asked pointedly. His eyes traveled from his sister's eyes to her hair then back to Clara's gaze.

Clara nodded, stepping to the side to allow her brother entrance into the house.

"What happened?" she asked.

"She attacked some of the workers at St. Mungo's. Managed to escape. Stupid idea coming here, though."

"Better here than Hogwarts. Mikey doesn't need this right now."

Roman nodded. "Anyone else here?"

She nodded. "A few friends from work."

"You couldn't get them to leave?"

Clara shot her brother a look, then walked to the living room.

"Fred? George? Can I have a word?"

Fred and George looked up at Clara from beside her mother, who was showing them old family photos. They both nodded and excused themselves before joining Clara and her brother in the kitchen.

"Thank you for distracting her. You can leave now."

"I don't think we can," Fred emphasized again. "We're here to help you."

"And she's got the help she needs now," Roman interrupted, seeming to puff himself up and stand toe to toe with Fred. He was at least three inches taller than the twins and definitely looked much more intimidating with his battle scars and gruff exterior.

The sound of glass shattering caused all four heads to turn toward the parlor.

"You lot stay here," Clara ordered, her voice sounding tough and frustrated.

She walked out to the living room to see the picture frame that held the photo Ms. Caxton had been showing to Fred and George shattered on the ground. It was a photo of Clara and Michael when they were young children.

"Mum?" she asked cautiously, walking into the room slowly. "Everything alright?"

Her mother had started to weep on the couch, staring down at her hands that were open in front of her. "I'm a terrible mother."

"Mum, you're fine. Our family has been through a lot. We're making it by."

The three men stood near the entrance, wands out, listening for any sign of a problem.

"I'm terrible. I lost my husband, my children are scattered all over the place…"

"We're fine, Mum," she emphasized, stepping closer to her. "Michael's at school, I'm working, Roman is in Romania with the dragons. Remember how you like the dragons? You told us that it was amazing to see all of them answer to Roman that first day we visited him at his job."

Her mother's sniffles started to slow, her gaze soon brought up to her daughter.

"Roman and Michael–and Griffin–I'm so proud of them."

Roman's grip on his wand tightened at the mention of his lost brother's name.

Oh no. Clara thought. Here it comes.

"You, Clarissa…"

Fred watched as Clara's posture faltered a little as she paused her footsteps.

"…you're always gone. Always buying things with money we don't have. Always running off with boys to God knows where." With each word, her mother stood up. Her hands were starting to clench together, as if preparing to fight Clara. Her pale face started to blush, her eyes growing wild like an animal on the hunt. "You disgust me," she hissed. "It's no wonder Griffin left us. It's no wonder your brother decided to join Him!"

Several containers in the living room exploded, glass and clay flying everywhere. Many pieces caught Clara in the face, streaks of blood accenting her cheeks where she usually had a rosy hue.

"YOU LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY!" her mother yelled.

As if on cue, several men in white outfits came flying out of their fireplace.

"UNGRATEFUL LYING BITCH," her mother shouted. Before the men could get to her, she sent a curse flying towards Clara.

She brought up her arms in protection, welts and blisters forming on them immediately. She cried out as Roman and Fred rushed to her side, the two shooting each other looks of protectiveness as they both tried to tend to her.

The shouting from Ms. Caxton continued until the men in white were able to quiet her. George held the front door open and watched as they took Clara's mother outside to be taken back to St. Mungo's, his mind racing and wondering what he and Fred had gotten themselves into.

As Fred and Roman helped Clara stand on her own feet, a familiar voice broke through the chaos.

"Still keen on having her at home?"

"Shove off, Sauveur." Roman shot the woman daggers as he walked over to her.

Clara followed suit. "What happened at St. Mungo's? Apparently you couldn't handle her either."

"It was a simple miscommunication which has already been taken care of."

"So what are you going to do? Keep her there until she's killed or dies?"

"Whichever comes first," Sauveur answered coldly. "That is my recommendation. For you two and for Michael, that would be the best option."

Clara's delicate hand on Roman's shoulder was the only thing that kept his temper in check. He looked down at his sister and saw how tired she was. He saw her wounds externally and internally. He had the choice to leave whenever he wanted to. It was a living hell for her here with their mum.

"Please do what you can for her," Clara calmly requested after a few moments of thought. "If St. Mungo's is your recommendation, then so be it."

Sauveur nodded, then looked at Clara's wounds. She reached into her bag and fished around for a bit, eventually pulling out a vial filled with a thick, light blue liquid held by wispy fingers. "Rub this on your arms each night before you sleep. Those should disappear within a few days."

Clara nodded in appreciation as she accepted the vial. With that Sauveur took her leave.

The remaining four stood in the parlor in silence, letting the chaos of what had happened settle down. The glass and clay on the floor made noise each time someone moved their feet.

"Roman, can you give me a moment with these two, please?"

He nodded, giving each of the twins a look before taking his leave. They could hear his footsteps as he walked heavily up the stairs.

Clara gestured to the dining room table where their plates of pie and cups of coffee still waited for them. They all filed in, resuming their positions from earlier.

"I'm sure you have questions."

No one answered her.

Clara closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She didn't know where to begin.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm sure you've noticed that I try hard to not mention my third brother."

The twins nodded as Clara began to weave her tale.

"A few years ago, my brother Griffin was recruited by You-Know-Who. It made sense: he was an angry little Slytherin that didn't have mum or dad's approval and wanted to feel useful. His friends knew some people because their parents were death eaters and they all eventually began to work for Him.

"When my parents found out, it ripped our family apart. There was a huge fight and Griffin decided to do something he had never done in his life. He fought back against the person he felt the most humiliated by: my father."

Her eyes were empty as she stared at the table in front of her.

"He and my dad were sending curse after curse at one another. I was hiding upstairs with Michael." Clara closed her eyes as she pushed out the sound Michael's cries for their parents, his cries for Roman, and his cries of fear from her mind. "We could hear my mother screaming at the two of them to stop, but they just kept going. At some point, her cries stopped. Griffin had thrown a curse at her that did something to her mind. It made her turn against the child she loved most. He hated how perfect Roman was, so he assumed it would be Roman she'd hate."

"And that wasn't the case…was it?" Fred asked, sad eyes looking at Clara.

She nodded. "Unfortunately, it was me. After that, she started to have these episodes where she would yell at me and break things. At first they were few and far in between, but they've been happening much more frequently. That's why she's at St. Mungo's."

Silence settled on the group. "And…what happened to your dad?" George asked meekly.

"Griffin killed him," Roman stated from the stairs. "And ran off as soon as it happened." Roman had taken off his coat and removed his boots, but somehow he looked more intimidating that when he first stepped in. He was a brawny, athletic looking man with a gaze that could pierce through anyone and anything.

The twins straightened up in their seats as Roman made his way downstairs.

"You two Charlie's brothers?"

They nodded.

Roman smirked. "He talks about you lot quite a bit. Says you're successful shop owners."

"I work at their shop," Clara added. "And Michael loves their products."

Roman nodded and took a seat next to Clara. "That's good. We need a little more laughter in this world."

Clara nodded as she started to gather up dishes. She muddled out the conversation between George and Roman about Romania as she walked into the kitchen, unaware that she had a shadow.

As she set the dishes in to the sink, she rested her arms against the edge and took an exhausted deep breath.

"Do you need any help in here?" she heard a voice call from the doorway.

Turning, she saw Fred standing with two more cups in his hand, his face so soft and sweet as he gazed upon her.

"That'd be lovely," she replied. She reached into a drawer and handed him a dish towel, then proceeded to wash the dishes.

There was a long silence between the two. The splashing of water and clinking of dishes was the chorus that filled the kitchen.

"The pie was good tonight," Fred finally mustered out, then bashing himself internally for saying something so foolish.

His foolishness, though, earned him a chuckle.

"Of all the things you think about tonight, you come back to the pie?" Clara laughed, turning off the water and looking at Fred with one hand on her hip.

He shrugged, his signature Weasley smile spreading across his face. "It was good pie!"

She shook her head with a smile as she finished washing the last of the cups. "I'm sorry for getting flustered with you both earlier. I've been trying to keep this under wraps for quite some time and I just…I never wanted anyone else to have to get involved."

Fred nodded. "I told you, we're here whenever you need us. You've become one of our best friends, if I'm honest."

She smiled, handing Fred the last cup. He grabbed it with the dish towel draped over his palm, Clara's hand cupped by his.

They paused in that position for a moment, Clara's gaze rising to meet Fred's.

Her heart had pounded a little harder.

Her cheeks got a little rosier.

Her mind raced a little faster.

Quickly, she pulled her hand away which caused the cup to fall onto the floor.

The sound of crashing china caused Roman and George to rush to the kitchen, the only sight being Fred and Clara kneeling down to pick up the cup.

"Everything alright in here?" Roman asked.

"We're fine," Clara replied, her gaze flitting quickly from the ground to Fred to Roman. "Cup slipped out of my hand."

Roman nodded as he watched the scene, trying to piece together what had really happened. He knew that his sister was never a good one for lying.

"Hey Fred, maybe we should head home when you're finished. Oh and Clara, feel free to take the next few days off."

Fred nodded as he held the towel with the broken pieces of the mug. Clara started to take it from him with an appreciative smile.

"Thank you."

He nodded and began to walk out of the kitchen, nodding again towards Roman before following George out of the house.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next morning, Clara rose early and got dressed for the day. She was planning to clean up the living room for the second time in two months and tidy up the rest of the house now that she had some time to do so. Roman had told her he'd only be able to stay for the night, so she knew it was best to get things straightened up before they began to discuss what was going to happen to their family.

As she finished putting all of the picture frames back together and placing them on the wall, she stepped back to admire her work on the living room. She had picked out every piece of glass, swept up all of the dust, and even rearranged the furniture for good measure.

"Busy this morning?" Roman asked, leaning against the frame of the doorway that led to the parlor.

"Figured it wasn't going to clean itself," she commented, walking past him. "There's some cereal and milk if you'd like something to eat."

Roman waved her off. "Just coffee."

She nodded as she grabbed a couple of mugs and poured them some coffee. She set a cup down in front of Roman at the dining room table as she took a seat next to him.

"What're you going to tell Mikey?" he asked her.

Sighing, Clara shook her head. "I haven't the faintest. I don't know how comfortable he is with Mum right now. After her first episode, he hasn't really been the same. He gravitates towards me much more than before."

Roman nodded, sipping from his cup. "And you? How're you dealing with everything?"

Clara shrugged with a chuckle. "How does it seem like I'm dealing with it?"

"Remarkably well," Roman commented. "If I were you, I'd be going mad."

"Internally I am."

Roman paused as he looked over his sister's features. She had aged quite a bit since he last saw her six months ago, which made him forget for a moment that she was just 17. Clara looked tired, but some of the wrinkles in her face weren't hard ones. Some he could tell were from feeling joy and happiness.

"What happened to your hair, if you don't mind me asking."

"Mum."

Roman nodded, his gut telling him not to meddle any further. "It looks good."

Clara let out a small laugh. "Funny enough, you're not the first person to tell me that. Fred also tried to make me feel better about it."

Roman nodded with one eyebrow slightly lifted. "Fred…You get along with those Weasley twins alright?"

She nodded, sipping some coffee. "They take care of me and help me out where they can. I'm really happy that I was able to get a job through them. Fred was the one who hired me, actually."

Roman nodded. "And is he a nice boy, that Fred?"

Clara began to laugh as she hit her brother on the arm. That was the line their father used to use whenever she'd start to talk to a boy at school. Always the protective father when it came to her little girl.

"Hey, a man's gotta ask!" Roman chuckled.

"He's very nice," Clara clarified. "His heart's in the right place. Both of theirs are."

"Their brother tells me loads of stories about them and their pranks. I'm glad they can put it to good use."

She nodded.

Roman looked up at the clock on the wall and noted that he had a few more minutes before he had to go back to Romania. "Clara, can I tell you something?" His tone was much more serious than the one he had mere moments before.

She nodded.

"Keep those boys close. They're good, I can tell. Don't be afraid to ask for help. You're gonna have to be like a mum for Mikey and he needs someone strong to lean on. When you need someone to lean on, talk to them, or talk to me."

She nodded again, a tear running down her face.

Roman reached over and rubbed the tear away. He lifted Clara's chin to look at him with his large hand. "It's a lot to ask of you, and I wish I could be around more."

"You're busy, I understand."

He nodded with guilt. "I'll try and be around again in a couple of months for Christmas." Roman stood up and grabbed his bag that was sitting near the door.

Clara followed, sad that her brother was leaving so soon.

As he opened the front door and walked onto the porch, he turned to Clara. He said nothing, but pulled her into a tight hug, feeling her small arms try to wrap around him.

"Dad would be proud of you."


	7. Chapter 7

The holiday break was rolling around, things at the shop becoming increasingly busy as people stopped by to purchase Christmas gifts.

Clara was happy that she could help so many parents pick gifts for their children. She would tell them stories about her brother and what kinds of things he wanted or what he thought was most useful and would receive many stories in return about pranks that had been pulled in the customers' own homes. It was a nice little snapshot into the lives of people she was enjoying the company of.

One day, Clara had requested that she have a break midday so that she could go and pick up Michael from King's Cross Station. Fred and George didn't hesitate in letting her go and even told her she could bring him back to the shop. She beamed at the thought .

As she walked down the platform, she spotted a familiar woman in the crowd.

"Mrs. Weasley!" she called out.

Molly turned around and gave Clara a large smile as well as a large hug.

"Hello, dear! Fred and George give you some time off to get your brother?" she asked, noting that Clara was still in her uniform.

She nodded. "Have they arrived yet?"

"Not quite. I believe the train should be pulling in soon."

As if right on cue, parents and families alike watched as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. The steam from the red engine clouded the platform and with a giant hiss, doors opened to let out students for the holiday.

In the distance, she could see Mrs. Weasley's other two children, Ron and Ginny, walking towards them with Harry Potter. George had mentioned to Clara that their house was going to be very full over the holiday break, Fred and George both glad that they had the loft above the shop to stay in.

"Clara!" she heard from a distance away. She squinted to see her brother starting to walk towards her, a bright smile on his face. 

She waved at him as he got closer. Bringing him in for a hug, she noted that he wasn't trying to push her away. He hugged her much tighter than he usually did.

"Okay, okay I can't breathe," she joked.

He stepped back and Clara put her hands on his shoulders. "You look like you've aged at least three years. Are you sure you're still my little brother?"

He laughed. "Well you look like an old woman. And what's wrong with your hair?"

She whacked him lightly on the shoulder and ignored his question as they walked to grab his trunk, then out of the station.

"You mind coming with me somewhere before we head home?"

"Where's that?" Michael asked.

"You'll see."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Michael's eyes grew wide with excitement when he and his sister made it to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"I have to finish my shift, but Fred and George said you're more than welcome to hang out until we're finished."

Her brother couldn't have looked more excited. The two walked into the shop that was filled with even more adults, and students.

"Clara!" a voice called out.

Michael turned to see both of the twins walk to greet them.

"This must be Michael. Fred–"

"–and George Weasley at your service."

They both extended their hands out to the 14-year-old whose eyes were full of awe.

He shook each of their hands. "Thank you for letting me hang out here."

"Not a problem. We hear you're a loyal customer of ours," George said. "Want an official tour?"

Michael nodded vigorously, then looked back at Clara.

"Go on, I'll take care of your things," she said with a smile.

Michael and George soon disappeared in the crowd of people.

"Want to leave this in our loft?" Fred asked, grabbing one end of Michael's trunk.

Clara nodded as she grabbed the other end. Soon Michael's things were out of the way and the two of them continued their rounds around the shop.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

It seemed that as the day came to an end, George had made a new best friend out of Michael. In the time that Michael had been in the shop, he had suggested new products and changes to old products to George that he really liked. George even said that when they made new things, Michael could be the first one to get them (and test them on his sister).

As they closed up shop, Clara waited for Michael to come out with Fred after they grabbed his trunk from the loft.

Michael walked over to Clara, his face plastered with a smile.

"I think one day he'll be able to take over for us," Fred said. "Thinks just like us, he does."

"Oh no, what am I going to do with three of you running around?" Clara teased.

"Dunno, but you're stuck with us!" Michael announced, a laugh coming from all three Weasley Wizard Wheezes workers.

"Thanks for showing me around today," Michael thanked.

"Oh, Clara!" Fred realized. "Forgot to tell you – Mum invited you both to dinner tomorrow night if you'd like to join us. Especially since it's Christmas Eve."

Michael's face immediately whipped around, his eyes begging his sister to say yes.

She laughed. "We'd love to. Roman might be back tomorrow, so is it okay if he comes too?"

"That'd be great," George added. "Bill and Fleur will be there so he'll have some 'adults' to talk to."

Clara nodded. "Great. We'll see you lot tomorrow!"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

As they arrived back at the house, it was nearly nightfall. Clara had started a stew that morning since her days at the shop had been growing longer and longer. They dropped their things near the door and Michael immediately made for the couch in the parlor.

"Exhausted?" she asked. "You had quite the day."

"Tell me about it," he answered.

After a few moments, Michael sat up and looked around, noting how empty the house was. He walked into the kitchen to find Clara starting to spoon out bowls of stew for each of them, noting that there was only two bowls.

"Is she at St. Mungo's again?" he asked.

Clara paused, then slowly set down the ladle in her hand. Turning to her brother, she nodded, expecting to see his face much more sad.

In his eyes, though, she saw a shimmer of relief.

"And Roman is coming back tomorrow?"

"Yes, for your entire break. Can you take these to the table?"

"Really?" Michael asked excitedly, grabbing the bowls. "How'd he manage that?"

"He's put in a lot of overtime and actually made some real big advances with some of the new dragon species," Clara explained, grabbing some rolls and bringing them to the table along with a pitcher of water. "He was able to get a decent amount of time off."

Michael seemed to get lost in his own excited thoughts as he walked back to the kitchen to grab some glasses.

Clara was happy that her brother had so many wonderful things to focus on during this holiday. It dropped a great weight off of her shoulders knowing that things were starting to look up.

As they sat down to eat, Clara asked, "So how's school been so far?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"Mikey! Can you come down and help me with these pies?"

Michael jogged downstairs to see his sister starting to lay out all of the ingredients for her apple pies.

"How many are you planning to make? 50?" he asked, inspecting the extra-large bag of flour that was sitting on the dining room chair.

"Just three, silly," she answered.

"Let's start, I guess."

"You can measuring the dry ingredients into these bowls and I'll start to get the wet ingredients together."

A few minutes went by and the siblings were doing their respective tasks.

As Michael poured another cup of flour into a bowl, he got an idea. He scooped up a small handful and walked quietly towards his sister whose back was to the kitchen entrance.

When he was behind her, he said, "Hey, Clara."

"Yes?" she answered, turning around. She was immediately greeted by a handful of flour to her face and a brother who had started to cackle like a hyena. She stood with eyes closed and mouth open for a few seconds, taking in what had happened.

"Oh, you wanna play that game, huh?" she asked. "Come here!"

With that Michael bolted out of the kitchen and they both were in the dining room, throwing flour at each other. Laughter echoed all the way through the house as the siblings' food fight continued. Without them even knowing, Roman was knocking on the door.

He could hear the squeals and laughter coming from the other side and wondered whether or not he should walk in and face whatever craziness was within. He waved his hand to open the door and walked in, immediately dropping his bag and coat by the entrance and making his way to the dining room. He saw dust flying everywhere and could see two figures that looked as white as ghosts cracking up on the floor.

"I leave for a few months and this is what happens?"

Clara and Michael stopped laughing, looked at Roman, looked back at each other, then continued to laugh even harder.

Roman shook his head as he used his wand to clean up the powdery mess that had enveloped the two people on the floor as well as the room. In an instant, things were spotless once more.

"Nice of you to join us," Clara greeted, hugging her brother.

Michael was next, giving Roman the same kind of tight hug that he had given his sister the day prior. This was the normal, though, since Roman was gone so often. Michael always looked up to him and wanted to be like him someday.

"You can relax or help us with these pies if you like. The Weasleys invited us to dinner this evening."

"Yeah, Fred invited us," Michael explained as he resumed measuring out dry ingredients for the pie crusts.

"Oh, he did?" Roman asked, shooting a look at Clara with one eyebrow raised. "How nice of him."

Clara took a handful of flour on the way back to the kitchen and patted it into Roman's hair, Roman immediately shaking it out as if he was a dog.

Roman laughed as he followed Clara into the kitchen . "Is there something going on that I should know about?" he teased his sister, helping get ice water in a bowl for her to use when she kneaded the dough.

"I'm…not sure," she answered.

Roman chuckled once more. "Do I need to be worried?"

Clara just smirked and shrugged her shoulders, walking back to the dining room table with the wet ingredients.

Each sibling then began to make the dough for the pies. It was a family recipe that had been handed down for ages. Roman and Clara had been helping make it since they were kids, and now Michael was in training.

After the pies had been made and put in the oven, Clara checked the time.

"We're going to be late!"


	8. Chapter 8

Seven o'clock rolled around and the Burrow was stirring with laughter and conversation. Having the family under one roof–plus Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Harry–was a chaotic but happy time.

Mrs. Weasley was running around making sure that food was ready and that there was enough room for everyone to eat at the table. Ginny and Fleur were helping with what they could while everyone else spent time discussing matters at Hogwarts in the living room.

A knock at the door brought Fred and George to their feet.

"We'll get it!" they announced.

Racing each other to the door, George reached it first, swinging it wide open to reveal the three Caxton siblings, each with a pie in hand.

"Hi!" Michael greeted first. George could tell Clara had made him put on something nice for the occasion. Under his coat, he was wearing a collared shirt which looked like it had been tucked in several times already, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had dress pants on and his hair was combed, unlike the previous day when it had been a wild mess.

"Hey, Mikey. Glad you could make it." George stepped aside to let the youngest Caxton in, then shaking hands with Roman. "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise." Roman scanned the room to see everyone. He immediately gravitated towards Bill. He talked to the new Weasley brother about dragons and such, also entertaining Arthur and Remus.

Last to walk in the door was Clara. She was wearing a red dress and her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, curls framing her face. She also had a bag in hand that had several wrapped gifts inside, no doubt for the Weasleys.

"Happy Christmas!" she greeted, giving George a hug and handing him the bag. "Thanks so much again for inviting us."

"No problem, we're glad to have you. Fred went with Michael into the kitchen I think. Mum's in there and I'm sure she'll be happy that she doesn't have to worry about dessert."

Clara laughed as she made her way into the kitchen. Fred had laid out a paper on the table for Michael that they were both drawing on.

"And what trouble are you two cooking up already?"

"New product. George and I wanted to run it by the person who suggested it before we started to make a go at it," Fred answered, his gaze not leaving Michael's sketches and notes.

Clara chuckled as she set the pie down next to Michael's on the counter. She walked over to Molly and gave her a large hug.

"So good to see you dear," Molly greeted. "Oh, and this is my daughter, Ginny, and Bill's fiancé, Fleur."

Clara hugged each of them after their introductions, then the four of them proceeded to set the table for the night's feast.

She eventually had to shoo Fred and Michael off of the table so that they could set it. For the first time since she had gotten there, Fred looked at her.

He couldn't help but let his mouth drop open slightly when he saw her. It was the first time he had ever seen Clara wear something so form fitting, the dress hanging off of her curves in just the right ways. Her face was smooth and accented with just enough of a smoke near her eyes and red on her lips. He always appreciated that she never needed any blush to liven her face because she always had a natural hue to her cheeks.

"Fred?" Michael asked after he noticed that he wasn't listening any longer. "Fre-e-ed?"

Clara laughed. "Someone's talking to you, Mr. Weasley."

He immediately snapped out of his trance and faced Michael. "Sorry, Mikey. Let's go to the parlor and finish this up before dinner."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

After dinner, everyone enjoyed plowing through the Caxtons' pies. Remus and Arthur sat with Clara and Roman in the kitchen while everyone else enjoyed talking with Michael in the parlor.

"So you've been working with the twins?" Remus asked, eating another forkful.

"Yeah, and it's been quite fun actually," Clara replied.

Arthur laughed. "Those boys…their hearts are in the right place although this isn't the future we expected for them."

"They're doing just fine, I think," Roman confirmed. "I told them it's good that they have the shop. Charlie told me they were very successful."

"Indeed," Remus informed. "It's been hard trying to get things together now that things are starting to pick up on the other side."

Roman nodded. "Bill was telling me that you're all trying to reorganize the Order."

"You know of it?"

Roman nodded. "Our dad knew the Longbottoms. Hit him kind of hard when he found out what happened to them."

Remus and Arthur both nodded in agreement.

"Well, Remus and I were discussing this before you both got here, and after talking to Fred and George we were going to ask if you two would be interested in joining us."

Clara and Roman looked at one another for a moment before returning their gazes to Remus and Arthur. Clara's traveled a little further past them to see Michael laughing in the parlor. Her family meant a great deal to her, and she supposed she was much more protective of Michael because he was the baby of the family.

"I'd be happy to join the cause," Roman accepted.

"Me too," Clara added, returning her focus to Arthur. "Anything to help protect those we love."

"That settles it then," Remus said with a smile as he leaned back in his chair.

"Although," Clara began, casting Roman a look, "it'd be best if we told you that we do have one other brother."

Roman sighed as he nodded.

"I'm guessing this brother wouldn't be interested in being in the Order as well?" Arthur asked, remembering how Clara had left him out of previous conversations in the past.

"Not exactly. Our brother…he's sort of the black sheep of the family. He went to join You-Know-Who some years ago."

Remus' gaze grew more focused on Clara. "Griffin Caxton…that's where I'd heard your last name before. He's a very powerful Death Eater from what I hear."

"Believe us when we say we have no ties with him anymore," Roman confirmed. "He killed our father and that's the last we ever saw of him."

Clara nodded as she fiddled with the edge of her dress.

"Not to worry," Remus reassured. "You'll be most welcomed and appreciated here with us. As you said, anything to help protect those we love."

Clara smiled warmly at Remus as Fred leaned against the door frame of the kitchen. "Hey Clara, got a minute?"

Clara nodded as she excused herself, joining Fred as he opened the front door for her and walked her outside.

The two walked away from the house, the cool night air nipping at their skin as the breeze drifted in and out of the swaying leaves nearby.

"Thank you, again, for having us. My family really appreciates everything you and your family do."

Fred laughed. "It really is nothing. Michael seems to really enjoy it and Bill likes having Roman around, even if he's scary and intimidating."

Clara laughed. "He does have that quality about him." She rubbed her arms as she looked out over the swamp. "I always appreciate how beautiful it is out here. It's too bad there isn't a full moon out."

Fred lit up his wand as he handed Clara his jacket. "I think you need this more than I do."

Clara accepted his jacket with a smile as he draped it over her shoulders.

"You look nice tonight, by the way."

Clara was ever thankful that the light outside was dim, because her cheeks were flaring up. "Thank you. Do you compliment all of your employees this way?"

"Considering you're the only one, I'd have to say yes," Fred joked.

Clara chuckled as she sat down on a rock that overlooked their surroundings. Fred took up residence next to her.

"Can I ask you something Fred?"

"Sure."

She hesitated, unsure if it was something she really wanted to ask. It had been bothering her for quite some time, though. "All of the things you've done for me – for my brothers – why did you decide to do it?"

Fred sat for a moment, wanting to phrase his answer just right. "Things for Georgie and me…we got lucky. We could have dropped out of school and not been so successful. I guess…I wanted to be able to share that success with someone. Seeing you that day at the shop just seemed to be fate. Who knew that out of it we'd get a best friend, a new pranking mind, and a body guard all in one."

Clara laughed at the last line. "Roman is no body guard. His dragons might be, though."

"Even better then!" Fred cheered.

Clara smirked as she looked up at Fred. His eyes seemed to light up when he talked to her, always shining with hope and happiness. She admired how his smile would always fill her with happiness no matter what kind of mood she was in.

"Well, I don’t know how we'll ever repay you and your family for all of the kindness you've showed us, especially now more than ever."

"Just keep making those pies and we'll call it even."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Christmas morning, Michael jogged down the stairs to see their tree surrounded by many presents. It seemed as if there were more presents than years past. He kneeled down and began to go through them.

Many of them were from Clara and Roman now that they had much steadier incomes. He separated piles for himself, Roman, and Clara. Michael was most excited about the presents he saw from Fred and George. There were several small ones and one large one, and he was definitely going to open that one last.

"Ready to dive in already?" Clara joked, standing at the entrance to the parlor in a t-shirt and shorts.

"I've been waiting ever since we got home last night."

"Well, come have some breakfast first while we wait for Roman to wake up."

"Sleeps like a rock, that one," Michael commented, making his way to the dining room table. As he had been setting up the gifts, Clara had made pancakes – their usual Christmas morning breakfast.

The sweet smell of warm, fluffy cakes and maple syrup had been enough to wake the sleeping giant. Roman's heavy footsteps could be heard as he slowly made his way to the table. Michael was already wolfing down his pancakes while Roman continued to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Restful sleep?" Clara asked. She knew that the fire whiskey he shared with Arthur, Remus, and Bill the night before definitely contributed to his slow awakening that morning. She was happy that he had enjoyed himself so much, though. Roman was always so serious and so protective – especially after their father had passed away. He always left the "having fun" part of life to Michael, who always came through. Clara always had to remind Roman that he was 23 and acted like an angry 50 year old. He was entitled to enjoy himself every once in a while.

Roman grunted in response to Clara as he rubbed his temple. She placed a glass of water in front of him as well as a fresh stack of pancakes.

"Well, eat up. Someone's ready to rip through those presents he got."

Sometime later, the three Caxtons were in the parlor going through all of their presents. Michael seemed to be having the time of his life. He had received a lot of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products courtesy of Fred and George. Some of them hadn't even hit the shelf as they were planned for the spring term to be released. He had received many new trinkets and keepsakes from Romania and other places from Roman. These were things he always enjoyed collecting because each item his brother gave had a story behind it. Clara knew that he enjoyed the stories more than he enjoyed the objects.

After learning about how successful her brother was on the Quidditch team that term, Clara was very relieved as she had bought Michael a new broom. It was his first new broom, as the others he had been practicing with were hand-me-downs from Roman and Griffin who also played Quidditch while at Hogwarts. His eyes had lit up brighter than their Christmas tree and Clara had been immediately tackled with a hug. She could have sworn that he even cried a little.

Roman had received a new pocket watch from Clara that had similar features to the Weasley's grandfather clock. It told the time just fine, but there was another clock behind the first face that showed where Michael, Clara, and their mother were at any given moment. He was so impressed by the gift that for the first time in her life, Clara witnessed Roman being speechless. Michael had given him a pass to watch him play one Quidditch game at the school, for which he was told to only come when they played Slytherin.

Clara had also received a pass from Michael to watch him play, so they both reassured him they'd go to the same game. From Roman, she had received a beautifully framed photograph of the two of them with their father when they were young children. They had been at a park practicing their Quidditch skills with him and they were standing on either side of him, brooms in hand. She remembered that day as if it were yesterday, her eyes welling with tears of appreciation for the gift. She also had two boxes from Fred and George. George's had a recipe book as well as a few new dessert pans, Clara quickly taking the hint and laughing as she pulled out her gifts. There was also an apron at the bottom that had her initials on it, the handiwork looking like Molly's.

Fred's box was much smaller. She pulled off the wrappings to find a white box. Upon lifting the lid, she saw a necklace with the Hufflepuff crest as the pendant. It was a beautiful little reminder of the house she loved so dearly. The more she stared at it, though, the better it became. The small badger moved within the crest. It even hopped out onto her hand as she held it. The gift was so adorable and thoughtful. She immediately put it on, Roman shooting her a look and laughing as he did so.

The three of them received gifts from Molly – Clara had received a scarf with her initials sewn through the middle, Michael had received a sweater with his initials on the chest (which he wore quite proudly around the house), and Roman also received a scarf. She stuck a note into his gift saying that she had bewitched it so that it wouldn't catch fire when he was working with the dragons. It was a trick she had made sure to include with Charlie's gifts whenever she made something for him.

As Clara helped Michael put his things away in his room, Michael was talking to her about how excited he was to try out his broom.

"Well, there's not much room here for you to really test it out, Mikey."

"I know." His voice sounded immediately let down.

Clara paused for a moment, and suddenly came up with an idea.

"Mikey, I have a proposal for you."


	9. Chapter 9

The Weasleys were finishing their Christmas breakfast and enjoying several laughs as Ron and Harry began to test out some of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes products they had received from Fred and George that morning.

A knock came at the door.

Everyone looked around in slight confusion, as they weren't expecting any company.

Fred stood up to answer the door, surprised to see Michael on the other side.

"Mikey! What a surprise, mate."

Michael was beaming from ear to ear. "Good morning, Fred. Good morning everyone!" he greeted as he peered inside to see the entire household.

"What brings you here so early?" George asked as he walked over. "And did you like your gifts?"

Michael nodded. "They're brilliant! Thank you!" Michael chuckled a little, trying to contain his excitement. "Well, my sister got me a new broom for Christmas so that I could do better in Quidditch and…we wanted to issue your family a little challenge."

Fred and George looked past Michael to see both Roman and Clara standing a ways away, both clad in Quidditch gear, both with brooms in hand.

"The three of you? Versus our family? We have nearly an entire team just sitting here in the dining room. I don't think it'd be fair," Fred laughed.

Michael raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "You don't know my family very well, do you?"

"I told you they'd be too chicken, Mikey," Clara called out.

Fred shot her a mean, but playful look. "You didn't even play Quidditch in school!"

"Lucky thing I had three brothers who did!"

Ginny, Ron, and Harry had now joined the twins at the door, excited by what was being proposed.

George shrugged his shoulders. "Alright then!"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

After setting up a makeshift field above the swamp, hoops standing at either end, the Quidditch game was about to begin. Bill, Fleur, Molly, Arthur, and Remus sat below to watch the match take place. It was an odd set up, seeing the four Weasleys and Harry on one side and the three Caxtons on the other.

"You sure you want to go through with this?" Fred asked, staring down Clara.

"Just handle your bat, Freddie," she shot back, George nearly falling off of his broom in laughter.

Arthur stood with the chest of Quidditch balls that the Caxtons had brought. First he released the snitch, then the two bludgers.

"Keep it clean! I don't want any Christmas injuries!"

With that, he tossed the quaffle into the air and players began to zoom around the field.

First, Ginny and Harry were acting as Chasers since they didn't have enough people. They tossed the quaffle back and forth from one person to the other while Michael tried to get it from them. It seemed an unfair game watching him go back and forth.

Until Clara stepped in.

Zooming by on her broom, she intercepted the quaffle and darted down the field, Michael and Roman quick on her heels. They flew in a tight pack, Harry surprised that they could fly that close without knocking each other off of their brooms.

They were heading straight for Ron, who looked petrified at the mass of people heading straight for him. It was as if they were trying to fit all three of them into one of the hoops instead of just the quaffle. In fact, they scared Ron so much that he dived down to avoid a collision, Clara throwing the quaffle through one of the hoops and raising her hands in victory.

Fred and George shot each other a look, then split off. Their team had possession of the ball and they were ready to protect them.

Ginny was making her way down the field, dodging Clara and Michael with ease. She could hear a bludger zoom by her, turning her head to see that it was headed straight for Clara.

Ginny wasn't the only one to notice, Clara immediately zipping in the opposite direction before the bludger came crashing into her broom. Her heart was racing as she spun around several times. The world was a blur and her head was a mess, trying to regain her focus.

"Low blow, Weasley!" Roman shouted towards the twins, unsure of which one hit the bludger towards her. "You're gonna regret that one."

Fred and George looked at each other before feeling a gust of wind shoot past them. They watched as Clara zoomed around the field at an alarming pace, both not sure how she could be flying so quickly on that old of a broomstick.

Ginny called out to them as Michael took possession of the quaffle again and made his way down the field, this time him and Roman tag teaming so that they could score a second time on Ron.

As all of this went down, it was now a race between Harry and Clara for the snitch. All of the spectators were amazed at the speed the two were going.

As hard as she tried, though, Clara was hit with a stroke of bad luck. One of the bludgers had come back around and slammed very hard into her broom, causing to her spin out once more.

Harry had caught the snitch. She knew that already. But her heart dropped when she felt the grip on her broom slip and she flew towards her left.

It was as if she couldn't breathe. She stared at the ground that was coming more and more into focus as she pummeled towards it. Roman and Michael were too far away to help and she could hear them shouting her name.

No sooner had she closed her eyes to brace herself for the impact, she felt a body push her in a different direction. She immediately held on for dear life as a few tears escaped in relief as she felt herself and her savior moving closer to the ground at a safer speed. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw the concerned expression of Fred looking down at her, one arm still wrapped around her tightly.

"Clara!" Roman called out as he jogged over to her.

Michael had been sprinting ever since he hit the ground and had pushed past his older brother. He immediately latched onto Clara, causing her to break eye contact with Fred.

Roman slowed down, catching his breath, and patted Fred on the back. "Thank you."

Fred nodded as he took a step back to let Clara breathe.

Molly came over and put her hand on Clara's face to bring her to look at her. "You gave us a right scare there. Are you alright, love?"

Clara nodded appreciatively. "Looks like we'll have to have another rematch. Can't just let you all win on account of a dirty bludger."

The group chuckled a bit as they started to make their way back to the Burrow, Michael lingering near Clara a little more closely than usual.

"Let us cook you all dinner tonight," Molly offered.

"Oh no, we couldn't impose on you again." Clara felt embarrassed that the Weasleys were doing so much for them in such a short time, not to mention during the busiest time of year that should be meant for just family.

The rest of the group had already filed into the Burrow when Molly stopped Clara outside. "Clara, we consider you three to be family. There's no doubt in how much the twins care for you and your brothers. You all fit in so well. In light of how things have been for you all, we're open to helping you with anything." She paused for a moment, taking in how young Clara was. She brought her hand up to Clara's face and brushed her cheek with the pad of her thumb. "You, love, have a lot on your plate."

Clara took a deep breath as she nodded, taking a seat on a nearby stump. Molly followed suit and sat next to her.

"You don't have to do all of this on your own: dealing with things with your mum and having to be a mum to Michael."

Clara turned to her. "They're my family, though," she replied. "I need to step up and take care of them. Especially when Roman isn't here…"

Molly nodded as she placed a hand on Clara's knee, then added, "But you also have a duty to yourself to live–just a little. It's hard to grow up so fast in such a short time. Even as we help Harry, it's hard to watch all of my children grow up and mature so quickly."

Clara nodded. "You're a great mother, Mrs. Weasley."

"And you are a wonderful person, Clara. Don't forget that. If you weren't, I'm sure my boys wouldn't have taken to you as well as they have."

Clara smiled then took a deep breath. After a few moments of recollecting herself, she stood up and stretched her muscles. "Do you need any help with dinner?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

After showering and enjoying a hearty dinner, Clara sat in the parlor listening to Roman's conversations with Arthur and watching George and Michael work on their project product. Michael was so eager and excited. It was great for him being able to bond with the twins. Clara liked that he could maintain a little of his youth while learning new things. His Charms skills would be the envy of the other students in his year.

"Clara?" she heard a familiar voice call from behind her.

She turned to see Fred standing and holding two empty mugs.

"Hot cocoa?" he offered.

She nodded eagerly as she followed him into the kitchen. He filled their two mugs with water and set them on the dining room table. With a wave of his wand, the cocoa mixed into their brews and a sweet aroma wafted up to Clara's nose.

She smirked at him as she waved her own wand, a white powder mixing in.

"Are you trying to spike our cocoa?" Fred teased.

"If you think peppermint has an intoxicating quality about it, then yes," she replied smartly, taking a seat and wrapping her hands around the mug. It was nice and warm, and it was even better when she took a sip. The warm liquid ran right through to her stomach, heating her from her core.

Fred sat next to her at the head of the table, sipping from his drink as well.

"Thank you, again," Clara began, "for saving me today."

Fred shrugged. "Consider it my apology for hitting you with a bludger before that."

"Hey, it's how the game's played," Clara excused. "I do want to rematch you, though."

Fred smiled. "We'll see about that."

Clara and Fred looked at each other for a moment, smiling. Clara broke eye contact first as she felt her cheeks warm and her stomach start to flutter. "I also wanted to thank you for the necklace." She touched the pendant that hung around her neck. "It really is beautiful."

Fred's grin grew wider. "I'm glad you like it so much. I also liked the notebook you gave me."

Clara smiled. She had picked out a beautiful, red, leather bound notebook for Fred so he could write all of the ideas he and George (and now Michael) would come up with. He'd always complain to her that he'd write things down and lose them. She figured it was a good way to keep them all in one place. She had written to him on the first page, "Let your ideas flourish on these pages so that joy and laughter can be read between the lines."

A few moments of silence passed between the two that felt like lifetimes. Fred's gaze wandered to the living room where he saw his brother laughing with Michael.

"Michael is so interesting," he stated.

"How so?" Clara asked, following Fred's gaze.

He shrugged. "It just seems like he was meant to be with Georgie and I." He turned to face Clara again. "It seems like your whole family was just meant to be with ours."

Clara chuckled as she continued to watch Michael. "He does love you two quite a lot. He can't stop talking about the things you three are cooking up. It's nice…I haven't seen him so driven since our family started to fall apart."

She grew quiet and stared down at her mug. She thought back to her conversation with Molly that day as Fred shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Your mum gave me some wise words today after the game."

"What did she say? To not get hit by the bludger?"

Clara chuckled. "No, but that is good advice." She brought her attention to Fred, her eyes teeming with life. "She just said that I need to take care of myself more."

Fred nodded. "And are you gonna listen to her?"

Clara shrugged. "Maybe it'll be my New Year's resolution. I'll pick up some kind of hobby or something…maybe I'll even start dating again."

"He better be a good man if you ever decide to settle down," Roman added, walking into the kitchen to fill his cup with more coffee.

Clara chuckled as Fred smiled weakly, his discomfort not obvious to anyone else in the room.

"And by that you mean pass your standards?"

Roman smiled as he strolled back into the parlor. "And Michael's!"

Shaking her head, Clara sipped from her hot cocoa. For the first time she caught a glimpse of Fred's eyes and saw the usual glimmer that shone bright start to dim. Her mind began to ask a million questions that she knew she couldn't ask.

At least not yet.


	10. Chapter 10

The break came to a close much sooner than anyone had anticipated. Clara and her brothers had spent New Years at home with each other and had set up many more fireworks than they had in the past. They made all of their favorite foods and shared a great many laughs with one another.

The only dampening thing that brought them back to the Burrow over the break was that it had been attacked by Death Eaters. Clara had panicked when Fred first told her, and the three Caxtons had rushed over as soon as they could. She comforted Molly as best she could as the boys helped put the house back together. It took some time, but the Burrow was nearly as good as new. Molly had kept singing her praises and thanks, but Roman and Clara repeatedly reassured her that it was the least they could do considering she and Arthur were watching out for them and Michael as if they were their own children.

Now that the holidays were coming to a close, Clara was going to miss having the boys at the house. They were really what made it a home. The trio were on the way to King's Cross, Clara already dressed for work and Roman bundled in his coats to make his journey back to Romania.

As they stood on the platform, Clara could sense the hesitation in Michael's stance.

"You'll be fine. You'll be home before you know it," she reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to her and gave a weak smile. "Remember to write?"

She pulled him into a tight embrace. "Every week."

After Michael pulled away, he turned to Roman. "I'll see you this summer?"

"For as much time as I can spare," he stated with a smirk.

Michael nodded as he gave his brother a brief hug, the two trying to maintain their manly pride.

As Michael walked towards his friends and boarded the train, Clara and Roman began to leave the station.

"Now you're sure you're going to be alright?" Roman asked for the millionth time that morning.

Clara nodded. "I'll be fine. Mrs. Weasley said that I'm more than welcome to join them for dinner at the house, and I told her they could join me as well. Financially, I'm okay. Mum's been cooperative at St. Mungo's." She smiled up at her brother with as much confidence as she could muster.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and gazed at her features. "You know, when I look at you I still see the little girl that I spent so much time protecting when we were younger."

"And I still see the boy who spent so much time telling me not to be afraid. And I never was."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

About two months later, Clara was stocking shelves and humming to herself, enjoying the down time that she rarely got now that the shop was so popular. The twins had released their product they had made with Michael and it was a success: notebooks that came in pairs so that when one person wrote in it, another could see it in the book's partner. It was a hit with school students especially.

As she continued to restock Michael's product, she heard behind her, "Those things have been quite a hit haven't they?"

"Oh yes, they've been very popular," Clara replied in her polite, store voice. Turning around, she was caught off guard to see Oliver Wood looking at the notebooks. It made her heart leap into her throat. "Oliver!" she exclaimed.

"Clara," he replied with a bright smile. "How have you been?"

"Good, good," she answered, pushing her hair back behind her ears. "What brings you here?"

"I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Not much to see in Diagon Alley anymore. Such a shame."

Clara nodded, her hands beginning to fidget. "It's great that Fred and George opened up the shop. It brings a certain life to the alley that it really needs."

"Wood!" George called out, jogging down the stairs to meet up with his former Quidditch teammate.

"Weasley!"

The two shook hands and greeted each other as Fred walked out from the back.

"Nice to see you both. Great shop you have here."

"Thank you, we love it," Fred answered. "Great to make people laugh and not get in trouble for it."

Clara watched the exchange, but her eyes would always come back to Oliver.

Oliver laughed. "That's true. Hey, do you think I can steal Clara away for her lunch break? If that's alright with you, Clara."

All three sets of eyes now laid on the girl who seemed too nervous to speak.

"I…I'd be fine with that. You two mind if I leave a little early?"

George nodded with a smirk, and Fred attempted to do the same. His smirk was much weaker and he didn't bother sticking around.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"So how's everything with your family been?" Oliver asked. He and Clara had gone to a small restaurant and grabbed some sandwiches.

"Things have been…pretty much the same since we last talked. Michael's in school, Roman's still in Romania," she explained, taking another bite. She couldn't help but admire how much Oliver seemed to have matured since he left Hogwarts. He had sent her the occasional letter, but she didn't have much time to respond after her mother began her outbursts.

He nodded. "Things with your mum going alright?"

She paused, setting down her sandwich. "They've…been better I suppose."

Oliver set his food down as well, turning more towards Clara. "I'm sorry."

"No, no it's fine."

A few moments of silence settled upon the duo as people passed by them.

"So why the sudden visit?" Clara asked.

"Well, like I said, I happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Kind of off the beaten track for you, though," Clara teased, taking another bite of her food.

Oliver chuckled. "You caught on to that."

"I did," she said. She looked at him more expectantly. "So why the sudden visit?" she repeated.

He sat at gazed at her features. Her face had softened with her age, but had yet hardened with her experiences. Memories flooded back to his mind whenever she smiled or laughed.

"I had heard that you were working here, and I wanted to meet up with you."

"Is this the part where you ask me on a date because you want to rekindle our romance from school?"

"You like to get straight to the point, don't you?"

Clara laughed as she finished up her sandwich. "I'm on my lunch break, Oliver. We don't really have all afternoon."

He smiled and nodded. "Understood. Do you think you'll have more time tonight? Say…around 7?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

At closing, Clara seemed a little too quick to leave. Normally she'd stop to chat with the twins about the day, but she was all about getting things closed up and done as soon as possible.

"What's your rush this evening, Clara?" George confronted, shooting a smirk at her. "You have a date or something?"

"You could say that," she replied with a smile.

"With who? Wood?" Fred asked, seeming to come out of nowhere.

Clara didn't catch the tone he used in his voice, but George did.

Keeping a wary eye on his brother, he asked, "You two known each other long?"

"We went out for a while when we were both in school," Clara answered, straightening a few boxes on the shelf. "He graduated and we decided to end it because we both had our own paths to walk."

"Was there a cute little catch to that?" George teased, nudging Clara as he walked past with another box.

"Not really. We never ended on bad terms, though."

"Well that sounds sweet," Fred added, trying to sound supportive.

George could hear the restraint in Fred's voice. But he didn't have a reason to sympathize with his brother. Clara had been there nearly a year and to anyone that saw the couple, you could tell that there was something more to the playful jabs and weekly walks home. George teased Fred every once in a while that one day a customer would come in and sweep Clara off her feet.

He supposed he wasn't entirely wrong.

"I'm just wondering what kind of relationship he's looking for now that we've grown up a little more," Clara explained.

"Well, now that he's a successful Quidditch player, I'm sure he can definitely take care of you," Fred replied.

Clara looked over at Fred who was starting to walk up the stairs to his and George's living space without saying another word to his coworkers. She then shifted her gaze to George questioningly.

He gestured for her to follow him outside.

As they stepped into the cool breeze, George started. "Don't mind Fred too much."

Clara cocked her head slightly as she looked at George.

"And don’t feel guilty for going on this date with Wood."

Clara nodded as she looked at the ground. Fred's tone had really caught her off guard and had kind of deflated her mood a bit. All this time at the shop, she had always thought that she had Fred had a connection. Seeing Oliver again, though, had changed something–made her feel unsure about things.

"I'm not even sure if this thing with Oliver will pan out, if I'm honest."

George looked at her skeptically as they stood a few yards from the shop. "And why not? He's a smart fellow, definitely knows his Quidditch, and he's got a thing for you,. What more do you think you need?" he teased.

Clara chuckled. "Call it being scared and insecure, but I don't think that his lifestyle now is going to do us any good. I'd have to leave you two and Michael if I ever wanted to really be with Oliver. And who knows, maybe he's changed since we last dated."

"Well I guess you'll find out tonight, won't you?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

It had been a few hours since Clara had left the duo, and George had to admit that the silence coming from his brother was truly deafening. It was one thing if Fred was quiet because he was brainstorming to himself, but it was another to have to deal with his moodiness.

"Fred, fancy a butter beer?" he attempted.

Fred shook his head no as he continued to shuffle through random papers that were strewn about his desk.

George sighed as he walked over to his brother. "You alright mate?"

Fred took a deep breath before standing up to face his brother. "Why her?"

"Come again?" George asked.

"Why did it have to be Clara?"

"You mean why do you like her or why did Wood also have to like her?"

Fred remained silent.

"Well, it's not like you were really making a move on her, mate."

"It's not entirely my fault. Have you seen Roman?"

George laughed. "And when has something or someone like that ever bothered you?"

Fred paused for a moment, letting the papers in his hands drop back onto the desk. "Dunno when something has ever mattered so much, if I'm honest."

George raised an eyebrow as he studied his brother carefully. "Maybe you need a distraction." He stood up and walked over to a box at the foot of his bed and shuffled through it until he found a notebook. To the untrained eye, it was completely normal. The blank pages were itching to be written on, only the owners knowing what its true purpose was.

He brought it over to Fred and dropped it in front of his twin. "He'll make for a good distraction. I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

**So school's been going alright?**

_Depends on what you think "alright" is._

Fred chuckled as he wrote to Michael in the notebook they and George had created. Michael had one for each of the twins and Clara so that he could talk to them whenever he wanted.

**Is it that bad?**

_Well, Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Can't really say I'm learning much. Clara was right, too; I'm way more ahead of my classmates in Charms now_

**Just don't give him any of our products and I'm sure you'll survive the rest of term. And that's great! Maybe we can convince old Flitwick to put you in a higher class next term. Get you ready to make more products**

There was a long pause between replies, Fred understanding that Michael was probably busy with his other friends.

_Hey, Fred, can I ask you something?_

Fred's brow furrowed as he wrote his response.

**Anything.**

_Are you and Clara alright?_

So much for this distracting from everything that happened that day.

**I believe so.**

What a lie.

**What makes you ask?**

_Dunno. When she wrote to me today she talked about going on a date. When she said it was with Oliver, I was kind of surprised._

**We're just fine, Mikey.**

Fred leaned back at his desk and stared at the wall ahead of him, willing himself to not feel so emotionally involved with this girl. In his mind, he knew that he had already lost. It was Oliver Wood, for crying out loud. How could he compete with the smart, professional-Quidditch-playing ladies' man? He was a great friend, no doubt about it, but Oliver was competitive; always got what he wanted.

What got Fred thinking was what Michael said. Why would he be surprised that she was dating Oliver? Why would he think about Fred and his sister?

After about 15 minutes of no reply, Fred figured Michael had fallen asleep. It was really late and he knew that he should get some rest too. Closing his notebook, he took a brief shower and then got ready for bed, curling up in his blankets and hoping the bed would just swallow him whole.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

**_Michael –_ **

**__**

As promised, I told you I'd tell you everything that happened last night with Oliver. I promise, no mushy stuff.

**__**

We went out to eat at that little restaurant in town that you like, the one with the chowder and sandwiches we used to completely kill for when we were kids. The chowder still tastes the same. The sandwiches felt like they got smaller. We should go there again when you come home for summer.

**__**

Anyway, things were pretty normal. We talked about his Quidditch games, my job, you and Roman. All the while that we were there, though, I just felt…I dunno…

**__**

Something just didn’t feel right.

**__**

You know how you told me that I shouldn't sweat this date? I was internally freaking out.

**__**

I guess he could tell that I wasn't really feeling it. Oliver even asked me if I wanted to go home early. What hit me was what he asked next.

**__**

"It's Fred, isn't it?"

**__**

…maybe you were right, Mikey. Feel free to say "I told you so."

**__**

Talk to you soon. Love you

**__**

**_–Clara_ **

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next day at work, Clara was the first to open up all of the displays in the shop. She was thinking back on the letter that she wrote to Michael. Admittedly, there were things that she had left out for his sanity's sake.

She had left out that Oliver had been a gentlemen and lent her his coat after dinner when they had strolled through a nearby park.

She had left out that he had his arm around her when they sat on a bench and that her stomach had been full of butterflies.

She left out that he admitted he was still a little hung up over her after they had separated.

She left out that he had kissed her.

And that's exactly how she remembered it: he had kissed her. And it was that very moment afterward that he asked about Fred.

She could feel throughout the night that there was a looming cloud hanging over her head. She felt like she was somehow cheating on Fred without actually being with him. It seemed that even though she had been going back and forth for months about whether or not she actually liked him, this confirmed it.

Oliver's expression when she hadn't answered his question seemed sad, but relieved at the same time. He had simply smiled and her and thanked her for the evening. After he took her home, he told her he wanted to keep in touch. He missed the friendship, as did she.

As she finished setting up the displays, she walked around the shop one last time and stopped in front of one of the mirrors. She could see the little badger in her necklace moving around, excited for the new day. It seemed that it was even more rejuvenated when it was in the shop, and she wondered if that was a purposeful move on Fred's part.

She brought her gaze up to her face and noted the tired bags under her eyes. She had only gotten a few hours of sleep that night and was hoping that it would be a slow day.

"Ready to open already?" George called out.

Clara nodded as she turned to look up towards the twin who was in his 3-piece suit, prepared for another day of joking and pranks.

"Long night?" he asked with a smile.

With that remark, her expression dampened and she turned back to the mirror. Taking one last look at herself, she sighed and proceeded to walk to the backroom to check what they had in inventory.

George's gaze followed her with a furrowed brow as he continued to walk down the stairs. His thoughts were partnered with the various trinkets it the store making it bubble and teem with life. His expression relaxed as he allowed himself to get lost in the wonder that was the place he and Fred had created. It was amazing to think that something they had been getting in trouble for throughout the years would turn around to become other peoples' joy.

Meeting Clara was a blessing not only to them, but to their family. He felt that it was definitely a mutual feeling. Part of him knew that Clara was someone different, someone that he and his brother needed in their lives.

Definitely Fred more so than himself.

Thinking back to when Fred had first wanted to hire her, George couldn't recall another time he had had that same spark in his eyes aside from when they wanted to open the shop. And look at where they were now.

Whatever had happened that night prior, though, was something that would possibly make or break how things progressed from that day on.

Fred walked down the stairs with his tie in hand as George stood with his hands in his pockets admiring the store.

"That was fast," Fred noted, also gazing at the set up displays.

"Clara was early this morning."

"Early?" Fred, like this brother, was slightly surprised. If anything he thought that she would have been rushing through the door right before they opened.

"Yup. Went straight back into the storeroom when I asked her about last night, too."

Fred nodded as he looked down at his tie. He could hear his brother groan.

"Still didn't learn how to tie that bloody thing?"

Fred shook his head with a slight smirk. Usually he'd just steal George's ties when they were already tied or have Clara tie them for him. Maybe this was a good time to ask her.

He walked downstairs and to the back and could hear Clara shuffling around boxes behind the closed storage room door. A few grunts of frustration and a loud noise told him that she should probably come back to the front portion of the store.

"Clara?" he called.

Things in the room grew quiet. "I promise I didn't break anything…expensive."

Fred smirked. "Don't worry about it. Can you help me with something?"

Clara stuck her head out sheepishly, the first thing that Fred noticed being the bags under her eyes.

He held up his tie. "Can you help me?" he asked softly and quietly.

Clara's face relaxed instantly, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. "You still didn't learn how to tie one of these?" she echoed from George. Fred swore that some days, those two shared the same mind.

"I've had this conversation already with George. We're going to open soon, so any help would be appreciated."

Clara stepped out and walked over to Fred, reaching out the grab the tie. She tip-toed to put it around Fred's already popped shirt collar. As her hands worked to tie the tie, Fred studied the features of Clara's face that may have given him some kind of implication of how her night went.

He expected her to be beaming brightly as she walked in the door that morning, which is why he was a little later in getting ready. Instead, her usual blush was absent from her features. Her hair wasn't in the perfect pony tail as it usually was, several hairs sticking out of place. He was missing her morning smile that set his day on the right track, her attempts not satisfying enough for him.

"Okay, all set," she announced, tucking Fred's now tied tie into his vest and smoothing out the wrinkles on his coat with her hands. Clara stepped to Fred's side to walk to the front of the store as she said, "Time to open."

Without thinking, Fred reached out and grabbed her arm gently.

Clara stopped and just stared at where Fred had grabbed her arm.

He switched hands and turned her, bringing his other hand to her chin so she'd look at him.

Fred was greeted by a pair of confused eyes that peered deeply into his. They were brimming with questions and worries, making them appear much dimmer than when he had first approached her in the shop so many months ago.

His hand fell from her chin as he asked, "You want me to walk you home tonight?"

Clara's eyes widened temporarily, her stomach suddenly struck with a million more butterflies than what she had felt the night prior. With a small smile, she nodded.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Reading his sister's letter, Michael couldn't say that he was disappointed. He was currently sitting at the Quidditch pitch waiting for his teammates to show for practice, hoping to pass the time by replying to Clara. The pitch was a great place to gather his thoughts when things were getting a little too crazy in his life. As a fourth year, he had a lot on his mind.

_Dear Clara –_

__

__

_I'm sorry your date didn't go well. But…I told you so._

At one point, he considered writing that he had talked to Fred. Mikey had to admit that he really, really wanted Fred to be the one that ended up with Clara. He didn't trust many of the guys that Clara brought home, but Fred was completely different. He liked Fred, and George too. George seemed more like the type that filled the void of his missing brother. Fred was the one he knew that would take good care of his sister and make her happy.

And Michael knew how badly Clara needed some happiness in her life. He never saw her more happy than when either he and his brother were both home together or when she was with Fred and the Weasley clan. The thought of that made him excited for the summer.

_I hope you're doing okay. I'll talk to you soon. Got Quidditch practice._

__

__

_–Mikey_

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

After work, Fred and Clara found themselves walking through Clara's small town after apparating from the shop to go to Clara's place. For the first few minutes, it was quiet.

Fred's mind was going back and forth over whether he should ask her if her date went well, or if he should just ask about something completely different. Maybe ask about Michael or Roman?

"So I saw that we sold out of that notebook you, George, and Mikey made," Clara began.

Fred relaxed a little now that Clara settled his internal argument.

"Yeah. I'll have to write to him and let him know how successful it was. He was telling me that Charms is too easy for him now."

Clara chuckled. "He did learn from some of the best Charms students."

He was glad Clara wasn't looking at his face. Every time she laughed, he could feel his blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. She was admittedly one of his favorite people to make laugh. He loved how innocent and joyful it could be. When she'd laugh, he couldn't help but laugh with her. It wasn't because it sounded funny, but he couldn't help but share in the happiness she made him feel.

"I suppose so. I told him maybe Flitwick can put him in a higher class next year and he can help us make more products."

Clara nodded as she looked at the buildings that lined their walk. There were various small shops in her town. It was as if the darkness that was spreading throughout the wizarding world had forgotten that this place existed. A lot of small mom and pops places were bustling with life as people finished work and ran last minute errands or grabbed dinner.

"This place is amazing," Fred commented. "No wonder Mikey always talks about it."

Clara smiled. "He loves it here, I guess because it was where he and our dad would go a lot before dad passed. I'm surprised that he remembers so much since he was so young when it happened."

Fred stopped near a park bench, causing Clara to turn when she saw her partner had disappeared. He sat down and gestured next to him. She walked back and plopped next to Fred on the bench, taking a deep breath as she gazed at the people that walked by.

"Is everything alright with you?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"But I asked first."

Clara rolled her eyes with a smirk as she buried her hands in her pea coat pockets. "Well, if you're talking about what happened last night, there isn't much to talk about."

"It went that well, huh?"

Clara nodded. "Something just…didn't connect with Oliver. Not like it used to, anyway. I was kind of surprised that he was so forward with his feelings."

Fred nodded. "At least everything's out in the open."

Unlike his own feelings.

"I suppose so. We're still friends and all, and he said he'd keep in touch. He's very busy with the whole Quidditch thing, though. I think he's even going to Hogwarts to have a practice or two with the teams to give them pointers. Mikey'll love that.

"So what about you, Mr. Weasley?"

"What about me?" he asked.

"What about your love life? Or George's? I feel like all you two do is eat, sleep, and prank."

"Is that not what life is about?" he asked with a smile.

"I think that depends on who you ask," Clara chuckled.

Between his laughs, Fred replied, "I'm not sure I suppose. I had flings when we were in school but none of them were too serious. George is talking to someone now but who knows if we'll ever get to meet her. He's pretty private, that one."

Clara nodded. "You think that, with everything going on, it would push you to want to find someone sooner?"

Fred turned to Clara, his arm resting on the bench that was behind Clara's shoulders. "You mean with our shop?"

"I was thinking a little more big picture."

Fred made an "o" with his mouth in realization. "Well, if we were going to all die tomorrow then sure, I'd definitely be making a lot more moves than what I am now. No one wants to die alone in this world. But for now, I'm okay with just taking things slow."

He reached over and brushed Clara's hair out of her face. She seemed to tense up at first, but a smile soon escaped her lips along with a small giggle.

The growl of her stomach told them that it was probably time to head back to Clara's house. They continued to talk about past relationships and even got onto the topic of relationships their siblings have had as they walked. Clara pointed out that Roman was definitely not ready to settle down, the last girlfriend he had being when he was also in school. But he was young, and had a lot going for him.

As they reached the end of the pathway of Clara's house, she noticed that the lights were on in the living room and kitchen.

"That's odd…" she stated, starting to relive the last time she had come home and things weren't as they should be. The smile she was wearing slowly slid off of her face.

She slowly brought out her wand, Fred doing the same. He led them up to the path to the house. Clara waved her wand to unlock the door and they both proceeded inside.

Nothing was damaged or out of place that they could see. As Clara moved deeper into the house, she noticed that all of the photos that had her face in them had been singed. None of the other faces were tarnished, just her own.

Swallowing hard, she started to make her way towards the stairs. She was nearly there, but Fred pulled her back, having himself lead their search party instead of Clara.

" _Lumos_ ," he whispered. A bright light spewed out of the end of his wand, light painting the walls and ceiling of the second floor. As they walked up the stairs, the silence weighed heavily upon them.

Clara could feel her chest tightening with anticipation, her heart pounding the hardest it had ever been. She could feel the adrenaline pulsing through her veins, causing the arm she was holding onto her wand with to shake.

As Fred's wand lent them more light, Clara's eyes fell onto Griffin's old room. The door had been blown off of its hinges. Wood bits were strewn everywhere. Her mother's room door held the same story.

" _Homenum revelio_ ," Clara whispered. The two held their breaths and waited.


	12. Chapter 12

Nothing happened. 

They were alone.

Immediately Clara pushed past Fred to see what had happened to the two rooms. Inside Griffin's room, drawers were pulled out of every possible place, clothes were strewn around the room, books were open on the floor with pages ripped out. It was a nightmare. 

The same story could be said for her mother's room, except it seemed like more clothes were missing as well as a few valuable jewelry items.

"What do you think happened?" Fred asked from the doorway, surveying the damage.

"I'm not sure. I'll have to talk to Roman, though."

Fred nodded. "I think you should stay with George and I tonight."

Clara turned on her heel in slight surprise. "That won't be necessary, Fred."

"Clara," he said a little more sternly than expected, "look at this place. What do you think would have happened to you if you had been home?"

Clara looked around once more, her head lowered slightly. She may have been able to take on her mother on her own. With Griffin being there too, it's possible that Clara would have faced the same fate as their father. After some consideration, she said, "Only for one night."

Fred nodded, but he knew it would definitely be for more than that, especially if Roman had his way. There was no chance he'd want Clara alone after this.

"Maybe you should grab a bag with some of your things. I can wait for you downstairs."

Clara nodded. Looking at her mother's room one last time, her heart sank at the thought of what was to come next. Her heart sank even more at the thought of what Roman would say when she'd finally get a chance to tell him.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred and George sat on George's bed as Clara kneeled near the fireplace, anxious to hear what Roman would have to say.

"Clara, what's wrong?" Roman asked.

"Mum's not at St. Mungo's any longer. Or…at least I don't think she is."

Roman's breath hitched in his throat. Pulling out his watch, he checked the face that had his siblings and mother on it. The most peculiar thing was happening. Michael and Clara's hands were fixed at Hogwarts and at the shop, but his mother's was spinning constantly, unsure of where her exact location was.

"What happened?" he asked.

Clara looked up at Fred. "Fred had taken me home and someone broke into the house. Mum's room was a wreck and…" She trailed off, thinking of her brother's room and all of the photos in the house.

"And?" Her brother's voice was stern.

After some hesitation, Clara continued. She explained how all of the family photos had been ruined. She told him how her mother's room and Griffin's room had been broken into. She even explained how fortunate she was that Fred had taken her home. A few minutes sooner and she could have been caught in a terrible place.

Roman's face was in deep thought. Clara's heart started to beat faster and faster the longer it took Roman to reply.

"I'm going to come back as soon as possible. You stay with the Weasleys until I tell you otherwise. How much longer does Michael have until the term is finished?"

"About three and a half more months."

"Well, don't worry him with the details for now. Just keep writing to him and we'll figure things out as we go."

"What if she tries to get him while he's in school?"

Silence again.

"He'll be fine," Roman finally answered, his tone slightly wavering. "Things aren't going well all around the wizarding world right now. Something big is happening. Even the dragons can tell."

Clara let out a small sigh. "You take care of yourself, Roman. I'll see you soon."

As the fire died down, she looked at the twins who both held worried expressions on their faces.

The silence between the trio spoke volumes on what was going to change. Clara's mind was unusually still, only focusing on where she thought her mother could be. If she was with Griffin, then he had always gotten what he wanted: the approval and wanting of a parent. Her mother hated her, and she most likely hated Roman after his support in putting her in St. Mungo's. The only child left for her to hate was Michael, which is why Clara was so worried about his safety.

George's glance shifted from his brother to the girl who sat before them. He wondered what was racing through Fred's mind, considering everything that had happened within the last week. His brother needed something to calm his mind; something to bring him back down to Earth where he could focus more on everything coming up.

It was then that he remembered that the next day was their birthday.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred and George woke up around the same time the next morning. They couldn't remember what time they had actually fallen asleep. They had each taken turns staying up so that they could keep a watch on Clara. When she had gone to sleep on the couch in their loft, Fred reminded George that her mother did know that Clara was working at the shop. Who knew if Griffin would have tracked her there and what he would do if he found her.

Groggy eyed, George stretched his arms over his head and yawned loudly. "Mo-o-orning," he greeted his brother.

He heard some form of a grunt in response as he watched Fred pull the covers over his face.

"Nice to see you, too," George teased, tossing his legs over the edge of his bed. "And happy birthday to you as well."

"Happy birthday," he heard a muffled voice reply.

George noted the unusual quietness that sat in the shop. The displays weren't running yet and he couldn't hear the footsteps of their current guest.

"Where's Clara gone off to?" he asked, slight worry lacing his tone.

Fred shot up as he looked at the empty bed, then looked at his brother. After sitting and listening to their surroundings, he kicked his feet out of bed and immediately raced downstairs. George was quick on his heels. They split up to search through the shop, behind each display and throughout the storage areas.

Clara was gone.

"Dammit," Fred groaned loudly after meeting with his brother near the foot of the stairs. "Did she get taken?"

"Well nothing seems out of place. And there's no way anyone could have gotten in without waking us."

"But obviously someone can leave without waking us!" Fred replied in a near shout.

"And you two need to calm down," they heard a voice call out from the doorway.

Both twins' heads shot towards the sound to see Clara in her coat standing with a white box in her hands. The aroma of pastries wafted to their noses, immediately relaxing them and erasing their worries.

"Ooh, pastries!" George cheerfully acknowledged, walking to Clara and immediately grabbing the box from her. He peeked inside to see the many glazed and iced delicacies that tempted his taste buds.

"I wanted to give you a surprise for your birthday, so I figured getting you breakfast was a good start," Clara replied, her smiling face moving from George to Fred.

Fred's still worried gaze was upon her, causing her smile to fade slightly.

"I'm…I'm sorry if I worried you. I just wanted to surprise you and I–"

Clara was cut off when she was pulled into a tight embrace. Fred's arms wrapped around her protectively and she could feel his breaths deepen.

"I'm going to go eat these upstairs," she heard George chuckle to himself. He soon disappeared with the box that Clara could only assume would be empty by the time she and Fred finished their exchange.

"Please don't scare me like that again," she heard Fred speak softly to her.

In turn, she brought her arms up to return the embrace. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't."

With one last squeeze, Fred released Clara and looked down at her.

"Happy birthday?" she tried to add, a small smile on her face.

Fred finally relaxed his body and let out a small chuckle. "Thanks."

"Not every day you both turn 19."

Fred sighed. "Some days it feels like I'm 30."

"And some days you act like you're 90, but I don't complain," Clara teased, pulling away from Fred and removing her coat. "Best you eat those pastries before your brother does. I'll get the shop opened." With that, Clara disappeared to the back of the shop, leaving Fred gazing after her with a smirk still on his face.

"Oi," he heard from above, looking to see his brother's face, "I saved you one."

"Just one?"

George shrugged. "You seemed rather preoccupied. Didn’t want to waste such perfectly fresh pastries. Besides, seemed like you were getting enough sweets without the pastries." George shot his brother a teasing smirk.

Fred rolled his eyes. "Just get ready, Georgie."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

That day at the shop was more extraordinary than ever. The twins had run a special promotion since it was both April Fools' Day and their birthday. People would receive a mystery bag with every purchase that either held a product to be used or a product set to be used on the customer (each bag was labeled "ACCEPT AT YOUR OWN RISK"). A few customers risked the surprise in the shop and either left with different colored hair or a new horrendous outfit that would last the rest of the day.

The trio closed up the shop and proceeded to the Burrow for a birthday dinner per request of Molly. It was just her and Arthur at the house, and she wanted to do something special for her two boys on their day.

Clara pitched in to help with dinner while the twins and Arthur sat in the parlor and discussed the usual business as well as what had happened with Clara.

"It all looks delicious, Mrs. Weasley," Clara commented, peering into the oven to check on the ham Molly had prepared.

Molly replied with a warm smile as she set a few more dishes on the table. "It's nice to be able to spoil my boys now that they're not living here. How's Michael by the way?"

"He's doing well. Gained a gift for Charms thanks to George and Fred. I'm sure he'll be eager to help them with things at the shop when he comes home for summer."

Molly nodded. "And Roman?"

Clara thought momentarily before replying. "He's a bit on edge since what happened yesterday. I'm not sure what he's going to do now. Hard to say with everything that's going on."

Molly stopped and wiped her hands with her apron. "Well, if your house doesn't feel safe anymore, love, you're always welcome to stay here. Roman and Michael too."

Clara looked at Mrs. Weasley with overwhelming gratitude. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I don't want to be a burden–"

"Nonsense, nonsense," Molly cutoff, walking back towards the kitchen to grab another side dish. "You three are never a burden."

"Mum, we gonna eat yet?" Fred asked, sticking his head into the kitchen. "We're starving out here."

"Just about ready. You can sit at the table if you'd like."

The three Weasley men soon were at the table beginning to fill their plates with the food Molly and Clara had prepared. Molly was just bringing out the ham when a knock came at the door.

All pairs of eyes darted from one person to the next. With a wand out, Fred stood up and walked cautiously towards the door. George was close behind, followed by Arthur.

"Best you go upstairs, Clara," Molly ushered, tugging at Clara's arm, "just in case."

Clara nodded with some hesitation as she looked back at the door. Against her better judgement, she made her way quietly up the stairs and darted into what she assumed was Ginny's room.


	13. Chapter 13

Fred's hand sat on the doorknob, ears straining to hear any sign of what was going on outside.

A firm knock came once more.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"It's Roman," a familiar voice answered back.

Fred took a deep breath, looked back at his brother, then faced the door once again. He swung it open, wand at the ready.

Roman stood on the other side in the same manner, wand drawn in expectation of a duel. When he saw that there were only friendly faces to be seen, he immediately relaxed.

Fred thought he looked terrible. Roman had a few new scars on his face and his expression was an exhausted one. It must have been a very rushed trip back from Romania for him to already be here.

"Well, come in Roman!" Molly exclaimed from behind the men. "You look hungry. We've got enough to go around."

Clara jogged downstairs when she didn't hear any chaos. Seeing Roman walk through the Weasleys was a relief for her. Rushing to her brother, she embraced him tightly and let out a deep breath.

"You didn't need to get here that quickly."

"What else was I supposed to do?"

Clara looked up at her brother for a moment, trying to read between the lines of his expressions and his words.

"Oh, and by the way," Roman remembered, turning to the Weasley twins. "Happy birthday, you two."

They both nodded with small smiles in acknowledgement.

Roman brought his things inside, a few bags with his clothes and a few knick knacks for Michael, then joined Clara and the Weasleys at the table. He offered to eat last as he knew his appetite would be larger than most.

Clara watched her brother with relief, a part of her feeling relaxed now that he was here. It wasn't that the Weasleys didn't make her feel safe, but the comfort of her family being around was something that always made her feel like her load was so much lighter. With Roman around, he could help guide decisions or just make them entirely, although sometimes she disagreed with him.

Taking another bite, Clara looked around the table and caught a familiar pair of eyes gazing at her.

Fred had been checking on her throughout dinner, trying to make sure that she was alright. He had noticed how much stress seemed to melt away from her now that Roman was there, and he was forever thankful for it. It was another pair of eyes to watch her, and another person to help protect her.

When he realized that now she was staring right back at him, he panicked. He turned his head back down to his food quickly, hoping that she wouldn't have seen his wanting eyes. He tried to cover his embarrassment and was doing a very poor job.

Clara smiled to herself as she finished her meal, joining Molly in the kitchen to clean up the dishes.

The Weasleys moved to the parlor next, Molly going upstairs to grab Fred and George's gifts.

"You been alright?" Roman asked Clara as he grabbed his mug freshly filled with coffee from the dinner table.

"I've been better, but Fred and George have been taking good care of me."

Roman nodded. "How's Michael?"

"Alright. He knew something was going on…he put two and two together when I told him I had to stay with Fred for a while."

"Fred and George, you mean," Roman corrected.

"What? Oh, yes," Clara realized. She caught the side eye from her brother as he shook his head at her. "What is the matter with you?"

"More like what is the matter with you?"

Clara rolled her eyes as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "I've been under a lot of stress, alright?"

"Stress. Is that what it's called nowadays? You and Fred are under 'stress'?" he teased.

"Shut up," Clara sharply retorted.

It was Roman's turn to roll his eyes. "What is going on between you two anyhow? Last time I was here I was sure you two would be dating by the next time I saw you. Now I'm here, and you two aren't a couple."

"It's been a little more complicated than that these past few months."

Roman walked over to his sister and peered into the parlor where Fred and George were both talking to Arthur. "Listen, I know you have a lot to handle with taking care of Michael, and I know that this whole thing with mum has put you in a hard place. Don't take away your own happiness when it comes along, alright?"

Clara looked up at Roman. "You and Michael bring me plenty of happiness."

Roman laughed as he sipped his coffee. "Not as much as when I've seen you with that Weasley boy. Trust me Clara, you're easier to read than an open book."

Clara folded her arms and stayed silent.

"I'm just saying that you can't go on like this forever. You two know you like each other, so don't miss this opportunity before it's too late, alright?"

Roman walked into the parlor and set down his coffee, leaving Clara in the kitchen on her own.

He walked over to one of his bags and shuffled around, searching until he found two identically wrapped gifts. He gave one each to the twins. Roman had got them each beautiful, thick coats similar to the ones that Roman himself used when he would go traveling. They'd stand up to the coldest of cold and were nearly impenetrable. Roman invited the twins to join him and Charlie one of these days and that the coats would be of great use.

The twins were thankful, but very hesitant to accept his invitation. Roman simply chuckled.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

A few days turned into a few weeks. There was still no sign of Griffin and Ms. Caxton. Clara had been helping Molly around the house with cleaning. The twins felt that it was more important for Clara to stay home where it was safe rather than being at the shop, but in reality they had other things to worry about.

It was an unfortunate decision, but Fred and George had decided to close the shop until further notice. Diagon Alley was nearly deserted, barely anyone coming into the shop anymore. It hurt them to do it, but given the circumstances and what their dad feared would be upcoming, they thought it would be better to stay home and prepare themselves.

In their spare time, the twins, Roman, and Clara would practice different defensive spells. Fred and George taught what they knew from when they were in Dumbledore's Army, Roman would teach things that were useful when handling magical creatures, and Clara filled in what she could remember from school.

It was late after dinner one night when Clara was staying up to read a book on healing while the fire crackled and popped beside her. Roman had gone to bed and George and Fred were concocting some strange potion for the shop. A few explosions and hollers from upstairs told her that it had either gone really well or it had been disastrous. Whichever the case, Clara couldn't help but smirk to herself as she turned another page.

She could hear footsteps coming down the stairs to the kitchen, the rummaging of glasses, and the water start to run.

After a few moments of silence, she heard, "You wouldn't happen to know how to get rid of this, would you?"

She looked up from her book and saw Fred standing with a gigantic purple mark around his right eye, sipping from a glass of water.

Immediately, Clara held the book over her mouth and nose as she stifled a laugh. Fred could see the smile in her eyes as he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, laugh all you want. This is what you call the results of a terrific experiment," he explained, walking around to sit on the couch with her. He set the glass down and leaned back, closing both of his eyes.

Clara giggled as she put the book down and leaned over Fred. She pressed around the area a few times, Fred's face sometimes twitching in reaction. There was one spot that she pressed that caused Fred to hiss, his hand immediately jumping to her thigh and gripping it in pain.

Clara tried to ignore it, but internally she was exploding with nervousness and shock. "Should be a simple fix. I just read about it in my book…how hard could it be?"

Fred's head snapped around. "You mean you haven't fixed anything like this before?" His tone was unintentionally panicked, which elicited a large smile from Clara.

"It will be great practice!" She hopped over the back of the couch and stood over where Fred had leaned back. She took the sides of his head gently in both of her small hands and set his head on the back of the couch. "Just relax."

"Blimey, I better be back to my old, good-looking self again," Fred teased with a smile.

Clara shrugged. "No matter how this turns out, it's not a big loss. George was the better looking twin anyway."

Fred's hand immediately caught Clara's in one quick movement, their eyes locking as they both shot smirks at one another.

"Is that so?" he asked, an eyebrow raised over his black eye.

Clara stood with her free hand on her hip. "Are you going to let me heal you or not?"

Fred slowly let go of Clara's hand, his gaze unwavering.

She leaned over the couch to grab her book and look over how to heal the bruise once again. After practicing the motion a few times, she set the book down and held her wand over Fred.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

He waited a few silent moments which seemed to last hours. "Is it done?"

"I…I think so?"

Fred pressed around his eye, not feeling any more pain or swelling. "Feels okay."

"Looks okay."

"Brilliant!" he exclaimed, turning around to face Clara. "A natural Healer."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Clara excused, walking back around the couch to sit next to Fred. "Lucky is all."

He rolled his eyes as he looked over the girl who was sitting next to him. She was wearing an oversized shirt, shorts that showed more of her legs than she usually did, and her dark hair was up in a bun of sorts, loose locks falling around her shoulders. He enjoyed this look on her: sloppy yet comfortable.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" Clara called to him.

Fred shook off his day dream. "No reason. So, now that I'm all fixed, you reckon George is still the better looking twin?"

Clara pursed her lips together in fake thought as she brought her hand to her mouth in a thinking pose. "Hmmm…" She reached over and ruffled Fred's hair a bit, then cocked her head to one side. "Yeah, I reckon so."

"The git," he grumbled.

Clara laughed as she tucked her legs under herself. "So concerned with what people think of you Mr. Weasley?" she teased as she opened her book once again.

Fred didn't answer immediately. "Not anyone. Just a few."

Clara raised her eyebrow at him before continuing to read, the corners of her mouth not resisting themselves in turning upwards.

Fred smirked as he pushed a few hairs out of Clara's face, her blush starting to rush to her cheeks.

Looking back at Fred, her smile had started to grow wider.

"So what are you reading about?" Fred asked, peering into the book.

Clara turned the book so that both of them would be able to read it. "Just how to heal wounds and get rid of scarring. I was going to ask Roman if he'd let me practice on him but…"

"…that'd be a sight for sore eyes if you were to mess that one up," Fred chuckled.

"Exactly," Clara laughed.

"Mind teaching me a few things?" he asked softly.

Clara looked up at Fred, the light of the fireplace dancing across his face. His eyes seemed to be overflowing with life the longer she looked.

"Sure," she agreed.

Fred watched as Clara started to explain some of the basics about wounds and what the most common spells were, although to be honest he was only half listening. He was more admiring how much passion she put into explaining the details. He could hear the joy in her tones and could feel the energy she brought to the table. It was something he loved to watch her do with customers when she'd explain the products to them.

It was what had caught his attention about her when he first saw her a year ago.

And he was happy for it.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Clara stood on the platform as a multitude of Hogwarts students rushed past her. They were eager to get home to their families and loved ones, especially after the loss the school had taken. It wasn’t easy for the school, it wasn't easy for the wizarding world, and she certainly knew it would be tough on Harry.

He was the first person she saw come off of the platform. It seemed that as soon as he made eye contact with her, he tensed up for a moment. She knew that he had seen her brother with the group of death eaters after Dumbledore had been killed. When he had told Arthur about the attack, the only person Harry couldn't identify was Griffin. After he had explained what Griffin looked like, Clara confirmed that it was indeed her brother, and from there things in their lives started to turn.

Harry walked towards her with slight caution, his eyes tired and troubled. Immediately Clara brought him into a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry," was the only words she could utter.

She felt him nod in understanding. He pulled away and offered a weak smile as he scanned the crowd and saw his uncle standing near the entrance to the station. Harry gathered his things and walked away without saying another word to Clara.

She took a deep breath and returned her focus to the flurries of students that were getting off of the Hogwarts Express. The next batch she saw included Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. She waved at them and hugged each of them in greeting.

"I hear you're going to be staying with us this summer," Ron commented. "And did you get shorter?"

Clara punched him in the arm. "Only a few nights. And no, I didn't get shorter, you prat."

Ron laughed and Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don’t mind him."

Clara chuckled as she watched Michael step off of the train.

"Mikey!" Clara called out with a wave.

Michael looked at her with a relieved smile as he jogged over to his sister. He hugged her tightly, his embrace conveying many nights of fear and worry that he had faced these past few months.

"Time to get you home."

"Home?" Michael questioned.

Clara shrugged as she started to reach for Michael's trunk. "Home. The Burrow. Practically synonymous."

Ron and Ginny laughed as they walked with the duo to their mother, awaiting the nice journey ahead.


	14. Chapter 14

"You'll be staying here with Molly to keep an eye on the place," Remus instructed Ginny and Michael. As it had turned out, a few nights at the Burrow turned into a good part of the summer. With things changing so drastically in the wizarding world, it wasn’t deemed very wise when Clara wanted to go home. Griffin and her mother were both still missing after Dumbledore's death, Roman already assuming that they were amongst Voldemort's followers and that it was unrealistic in thinking that they were ever going to be a family again.

It was sad to watch the Caxtons crumble at such a rapid pace. Clara had never wanted Michael to go through all of this. Unfortunately, he was being pulled into this crazy fight as well. It was remarkable to think that they were all still so young, each of the Caxtons celebrating their birthdays the month prior.

"But I can go. I can fight," the 15-year-old insisted. He was frustrated that he couldn't go to Privet Drive to help Harry. He was also upset that he couldn’t stay with the twins, Clara, and Roman, who were selected to be some of the Harry decoys for when they moved him from the Dursleys' to the Burrow.

Remus put a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder. "Michael, I understand how much you want to help. What your job is right now, though, is to protect Mrs. Weasley and protect Ginny. Clara will be safe. She's a very capable young witch."

Michael's gaze shifted briefly from Remus to Clara at the mention of her name.

"I want you to do everything in your power to make sure they stay safe. We'll all be back before you know it."

Michael looked around at the four faces that stood before him, let out a sigh, then nodded.

Clara pushed through to her brother and put a hand on the side of his face.

"It seems like only yesterday I was holding you in my arms after you were born," she reminisced with a smile. "You're nearly all grown up now."

Michael's face was still filled with frustration, his eyes boring into Clara's.

She pulled him into a tight embrace, unsure of how to deal with Michael's changes in behavior.

"Oi, don’t stay up too late for us now," Fred joked as he and George walked past the group to join the others outside.

"Best come back in one piece," Michael shouted back.

"Of course we will," Fred answered as he stuck his head back through the kitchen doorway. "We have to look good for the Veelas we'll be meeting in a few days, right Mikey?" He winked at Michael before joining his brother outside.

Michael smiled genuinely enough to hide his slight frustrations that were now tagged with the twins.

Fleur's cousins were all that the boys could talk about now that the wedding was going to happen. Fred and George had mentioned to Michael that they could be wing men for him, Clara only scolding them because she wasn't ready for Michael to grow up and start liking girls.

Michael didn't mind that as much as he minded Fred being interested in girls.

Or at least in girls other than his sister.

Soon, he, Molly, and Ginny heard the group leave.

They were alone. All they could do was wait.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"'Saint-like'," Clara commented, walking back in to the parlor with more towels for Molly. "You and your stupid jokes, George."

All he did was smile, then wince as his mother applied more pressure to the wound that was on the side of his head. The room was quiet with all of the concerned faces that looked upon George.

He was lucky to be alive. Most of the Order had come back in one piece, with the exception of Mad Eye.

Clara was also another lucky one, a few curses just barely missing her and Roman as they had ventured through the sky. It came as no surprise when Griffin decided to show himself after seeing his brother with one of the Harry decoys. She had managed to stun her brother after Roman had taken a minor hit. When they had landed at the Burrow, they were immediately tackled by Michael.

Molly thanked Clara for the towels and ushered everyone to go upstairs and get ready for bed.

As the group started to disperse, Clara saw Michael still standing near the back of the room, gaze still fixed on George.

"Mikey, let's take a walk," she suggested, nodding her head towards the door. "We'll be just outside, Mrs. Weasley."

"Don’t be out too late," Molly said. Her tone was more than motherly now. There was a tinge of warning and worry that laced it.

Clara nodded as Michael walked up to her. She put her arm around him as she walked him outside.

The night air bit at their skin, Michael pulling his jacket a little tighter and Clara letting go and folding her arms together.

"You okay?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

Michael shrugged.

A few more silent beats went by.

"You want to talk about anything?"

Michael shrugged again, his gaze on the ground.

Clara sighed, sitting on a nearby rock. "Okay well if you don't wanna talk, I will." She took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I know you already know this, but a lot of things are going to change this year."

"As if they haven't changed already?" Michael asked.

Clara nodded slightly. "And I know you want to stay here and fight–"

"–which I'm planning to do."

Clara looked at her brother with slight surprise. "No, you're not."

Michael shot his sister a pointed glare. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're going to school this upcoming term."

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

Clara took a deep breath before starting to explain. "You need to go to school. I need you to be somewhere where you'll be productive and with friends and–"

"I can be productive and be with friends here," Michael argued. "Why are you trying to send me away?"

"I'm not trying to send you away, Mikey," Clara clarified. "If I could keep you here, I would."

Michael scoffed as he took a few steps away from his sister to face the open space next to the Burrow. "I want to stay and help."

"You going to school will be a much bigger help, I promise."

"How many more empty promises are you going to make me?" Michael snapped, not intending for the words to come out of his mouth so viciously.

Clara looked at him with a slight air of confusion.

He scoffed as he looked at his sister. "You keep telling me things will be fine and things will be better. I'm not seeing any of that happening. Even Remus – he promised that you all would be safe and look at what happened. Look at George and Mad Eye!"

Michael's voice had started to escalate, his frustration seeping into his words. His fists were clenched and his chest was starting to heave more at the end of his speech.

"Mikey, I know this is hard to swallow," Clara calmly began, standing up and walking over to him. "I'm not making you empty promises. I really do believe that once things settle, things will get better for us. Things will get better for everyone. And yes, there are times where things don't always go according to plan. We can't lose hope."

Michael rolled his eyes as a few tears escaped from them.

Clara furrowed her brow as she continued. "Dad used to tell Roman and I when we were little that we always needed to have a little hope in everything and everyone. We always needed to believe there was something to fight for. If we did, then we'd fight with more heart than anyone else."

She turned to her brother and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Michael thought about what his sister had said, and knowing that her stint of wisdom was coming from their father, her words held more value than normal. But there were still things that didn't sit well with him. "I still don't see why I have to go to school."

Clara sighed as she shook her head. "It's complicated. But I–"

"Uncomplicate it," Michael asked, or more demanded.

Clara shifted in her stance. "You'd be safer there."

"Safe from what?"

Clara refused to meet Michael's gaze.

"See? You can't even give me a straight answer."

Michael started to walk away from his sister, frustration seeming to come off of him like steam.

"Michael," she called to him in a firm tone.

He paused in his strides, his back to his sister.

"Roman and I are afraid that if you stay here, mum will come to get you–get you at any and all costs."

He turned around, trying to understand the significance of his sister's words.

"She wouldn't…"

Clara nodded. " _Any_ and all costs."

Michael walked back to Clara sheepishly. Knowing the track record that she had with their mother, the last thing Michael wanted was to see Clara get hurt. He didn't have any words for her, but nodded in understanding.

She smiled briefly. "Maybe you should get some rest. We can talk about this more later if you want."

He nodded as he walked back to the house. He noticed that Clara wasn't following.

"Are you coming?"

"I'll catch up."

Michael walked through the doorway that led to the kitchen, nearly walking into Fred because he wasn't fully paying attention.

"Hey, Mikey," Fred greeted. He noted Michael's demeanor was much different than what it had been earlier.

"Hey, Fred," Michael answered, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

Without saying anything, Fred put a hand on Michael's shoulder.

Michael looked up at him, the pain channeling from one to the other.

"Let's hang out tomorrow, okay? You, me, and Georgie. How's that sound?"

Michael smirked slightly as he nodded.

"Go get some sleep," Fred suggested, patting Michael's shoulder.

He watched as Michael ascended the stairs to get some much needed rest, noting that Roman was waiting for his brother near the room they were sharing. Michael was in good hands now.

He looked over his shoulder at his mum who was finishing up tending to George.

"She's still outside, you know," Molly informed.

Fred nodded, taking the hint.

As he walked outside, he could feel the cold breeze hit his face. It was hard to believe that only a few hours ago, they were fighting for their lives under the same moon. It felt almost like an out of body experience, as if he hadn't really gone through any of it.

Fred spotted Clara lying on the ground a few yards away, pointing towards the sky and waving her arm around.

"You alright over there? Or did tonight make you a little loopy?"

Clara immediately stopped what she was doing and turned her head at the voice. "I didn't realize I wasn't alone. How long were you there?"

"Not that long. Have room for one more?"

She nodded, resuming her position as she gazed at the stars. "I was doing something my dad used to do with me when I couldn’t sleep."

Fred took up a position next to Clara as he listened to her explanation.

"He'd point my finger towards the sky, like this." Clara grabbed Fred's hand and pointed his finger towards the stars. "And he'd draw constellations for me." She guided Fred's hand to draw a constellation, as if she was playing connect-the-dots with the night sky.

Fred watched as a light line was emitted from his finger that showed where he had already traced. Clara had made him draw the Little Dipper.

"This would help you sleep?" Fred asked.

"Sometimes. Most times, I'd stay up and ask him questions about the stars or how the constellations got their names."

Fred nodded, then held his arm up again. "Show me another one."

Clara smiled as she used both hands to steady Fred's arm. Surveying the night sky, she started to trace a spot close to where she had found the Little Dipper. She appreciated how warm Fred's hand was as she held it, having been out in the cold for so long.

When she was done, Fred scrunched his brows together. "Now that's definitely not a constellation." He was looking at his initials in the night sky.

"It is now," Clara proudly announced. "It's the 'Fred' constellation."

Fred smirked as he turned on his side and moved closer to Clara, nudging his arm near her head so that Clara would use it as a pillow. He held her hand up to the sky and started to draw. His hand completely enveloped hers, Clara giggling at the size difference.

"Alright. Is there a 'Clara' constellation?"

Clara nodded. "And a 'Roman' constellation, and a 'Michael' constellation." She watched as Fred's drawing wasn't really matching up with stars anymore, but was just a bunch of random doodles in the sky.

"Now I can brag to George that I have my very own constellation," Fred commented, putting Clara's hand down to admire his artwork.

Clara couldn't help but feel her breath hitch in her throat when Fred didn't let go of her hand. Her heart was already racing due to the close proximity of this Weasley boy to her.

The drawings Fred had drawn in the sky started to fade away, but as they did streaks of light started to re-outline them, as if the shooting stars were being told where to go.

Clara appreciated the light show Fred had made for her, and she soon shifted her gaze to Fred.

Fred returned the gaze.

"Thank you for coming out here," she said.

"I figured you needed someone."

Her eyes fell slightly. "Did you run into Mikey?"

"Yeah. I told him I'd hang out with him tomorrow, too. Get his mind off things."

Clara nodded as she shifted her focus back to the stars.

"Are you okay?" Fred asked after a few more moments of star gazing. He pushed some hair out of her face, wanting to get a better look into her beautiful brown eyes.

Clara didn't answer for quite some time. In her head she wanted to lie and tell Fred there wasn't anything wrong. She thought that she could handle just a few more lies to herself.

But who was she kidding?

The longer she sat, the more the tears pushed against her eyes. They started to fall freely down the sides of her face.

Clara sat up, freeing her hand from Fred's grip, and buried her face in her hands.

She immediately felt a strong arm pull her to her right. Her face landed in the crook of his neck, his hand coming up and stroking her hair. Her hands pulled on Fred's shirt, silently begging him to not let her go. He wrapped his other arm around her protectively. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to her forehead softly.

Her sobs started to grow louder the longer that Fred held on. He could feel her shivering, thinking that this was all of the stress and anger from the past year and beyond coming out of this tiny body that sat before him.

"F-F-Fred," she mustered out.

"What do you need?" he asked softly.

"D-don't l-l-leave me al-al-alone…"

Fred nodded as he squeezed Clara a little tighter.

A few minutes went by and the wind outside started to blow harder.

Fred started to stand up, pulling Clara up with him. "Let's go inside. You can sleep with me tonight."

Clara looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"George is staying downstairs. It'll be just for the night."

Clara nodded as Fred wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she wrapped an arm around his waist, both walking towards the Burrow.

He whispered for her to get ready and meet him at his room and she obliged, the weight of sleep pushing on her bones. As she walked upstairs, Fred could feel his mother's gaze on him. Walking over to her, he could see that George was out cold. His head was bandaged up nicely and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"Is he going to be alright?"

"I'm sure he will be. It's not like he uses his ears to listen to anybody anyway," Molly joked, Fred chuckling at his mother's humor.

"Is she going to be alright?"

Fred looked at the staircase before returning his attention to his mother.

"I hope so."

She reached out and put a hand on her son's, giving it a quick squeeze. "You picked well."

"Mum?" Fred asked in slight confusion.

Molly smiled at him as she put a blanket over George. "She's a good girl, Fred. You picked well."

They shared a knowing smile as they turned off the lights downstairs and made their way upstairs for a long awaited rest.


	15. Chapter 15

Clara couldn't remember the last time she had gotten such a good night's sleep. It seemed like the stresses she had been holding had just faded away in a few hours' time.

As she started to awaken, she could feel the puffiness in her eyes, the slight stiffness of being in one position for so long, and…

Arms.

She felt a pair of strong arms wrapped around her which caught her off guard. Thinking back to the night prior, she remembered talking with Fred and drawing constellations. Then she remembered breaking down and asking him not to leave her alone.

This must have been his method of doing so.

Opening her eyes, Clara found herself tucked into Fred's chest as the morning rays started to filter in through the window behind him. His scent was intoxicating, her mind battling with itself in the decision to wake up for the day or just hide out in Fred's room for the rest of her life.

She shifted slightly, hoping not to wake him up.

"Are you awake?" Fred asked softly.

"Maybe," she replied.

Clara sat up, breaking out of Fred's grasp and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked back down at Fred. His fiery red hair was a mess after falling asleep and his shirt fell loosely on his frame. He was wearing sweatpants, Clara assuming it was because she had hogged all of the blankets.

He looked cute. It was a picture that she didn't mind waking up to every morning.

"I'm sorry," she uttered as she turned herself towards him.

"For what? I wasn't awake for that long," Fred teased. "And you're a much better roommate than George. Saws logs in his sleep, that one." He gazed at Clara in her large t-shirt and shorts, his mind traveling back to the night he had received his black eye.

Clara chuckled slightly before continuing. "No, I mean I'm sorry for putting you in this position last night."

Fred's smile weakened as he sat up to face Clara. "There's no need for an apology."

"No, there is. This was…unprofessional on my part."

His brows furrowed as he placed a hand on the side of Clara's face to force her to look at him. "What in the world are you going on about?"

Clara took a deep breath. "I have no idea." Her mind was confused as to what was going on between her and Fred. Was it just a friendly gesture? Was there more behind this little sleepover? Was she ready for this next potential step?

He let his hand fall away. "You needed someone last night, and I wanted to be that person. I wasn't going to let you go through this on your own."

Clara nodded. "So that's all it was? Helping a friend?"

Fred paused, his gaze now falling away from Clara's.

His lack of answer told Clara he was just as uncertain about their next step as she was.

"Listen, I know we have a lot of other things to do in the next few days so can we…put this on pause?"

"Pause?" Fred asked, laughing at Clara's version of asking to talk about their situation later.

She pushed him backwards so that he landed back on the bed, smiling as she did so. "You know what I mean."

Fred swung himself back up to a sitting position. Gazing into Clara's eyes, Fred had an inkling that he knew what he wanted to tell her. He had been aching to tell her all summer, but something had always come up. Now it was happening again.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He reached out for one of her hands, rubbing small circles on the back of it. "Answer me this question first, though."

Clara's attention was sharply focused on Fred. The feeling of his fingers on her skin caused an electrifying sensation to pulse through her.

"Will you be my date to the wedding?"

Clara cocked her head in confusion, a small smile creeping onto her face. "What happened to your Veela prospects you were looking forward to?"

Fred shrugged as he rolled out of bed. "I have more important people I'd like to spend my time with."

Clara blushed. She nodded and Fred greeted her with the widest smile she had ever seen grace his face.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Throughout the rest of the day, Fred and George spent time with Michael. They worked on new product ideas and taught Michael a few new charms that would definitely impress Professor Flitwick when Michael started up school again. Molly eventually asked if they could de-gnome the garden, which turned into a throwing contest between the three boys. Michael had tossed his gnomes the farthest, receiving cheers of joy and congratulations from the twins.

As they finished their productive day, George and Fred sat down with Michael on the floor in their room and went over more ideas for the shop.

"So if we do another line of Skiving Snack Boxes," George thought aloud, "then we could add all four of these." He circled the four product ideas Michael had. "And we can add 'The Caxton Extension Pack'."

"Wicked," Michael reveled.

"He's a natural, Georgie," Fred complimented, leaning back against his bed.

"Who knew we'd get two workers out of the Caxtons instead of just one," George joked, nudging Michael.

Molly stuck her head into the twins' room. "Sorry to bother, but we need to change your dressings, George."

He nodded as he stood up and followed his mother out.

Michael flipped through some of the other notes he and the twins had made that day, then sighed deeply.

"Brain fried?" Fred asked.

"In a way." Michael looked up at Fred. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Mikey."

Michael leaned forward a little. "I saw you with my sister last night, after I went up to bed. She was drawing constellations with you, wasn't she?"

Fred nodded. "She do that a lot?"

Michael shrugged. "Only when she's really stressed. It's really special to her."

"Why's that?"

"Don't tell her I told you this, but it was her and Dad's special thing they'd do together. Roman told me it was one of the last things he did with her before Griffin…"

Fred nodded in understanding. "Pretty important then."

Michael nodded. A few beats later, he asked, "Do you like my sister?"

Fred paused, not sure how to answer the question. It was the most direct anyone had been with him about his feelings towards the employee that had walked into their lives just over a year prior.

"Sorry?" he answered, still adjusting to the shock of what Michael had asked.

"Do–you–like–my–sister? You know, want to marry her and grow old with her?" Michael teased, seeing that he hit a nerve that caught Fred off guard.

Fred scratched the back of his head. "What gave you that idea?"

Michael shot Fred a look that told him he shouldn't have to answer that.

"Point taken," Fred admitted. "I won't lie to you, even though I'd really like to. But…yeah, I believe I do."

Michael smirked. "Good."

"Good?" Fred asked, somewhat surprised by Michael's answer.

"Yeah. I wouldn't mind having you and George as my brothers, for real." Michael stood up, smoothing out his shirt. "I've always thought of you as my brothers anyway, regardless of whether or not you liked my sister in that way."

Fred stood up, then trapped Michael in a head lock, rubbing his knuckles on the top of his head. "Good, because now I can really treat you like my little brother."

Michael yelled out in laughter as he tried to fight his way out of Fred's grasp.

"Alright you two, that's enough," Clara laughed from the doorway, her apron George had given her at Christmas hanging from her neck. "It's time for dinner."

Fred let Michael go as their laughter died down. He walked past Clara with a wink, Clara chuckled as she rolled her eyes at the twin.

Michael walked up to her. "Clara, about last night–I'm sorry."

Clara shook her head. "I'm sorry, too." She tousled his hair. "You're not the little boy I remember taking care of. You're getting older, getting more mature."

"I don't mind being bossed around by you for a few more years, though," he admitted with a small smile.

Clara rolled her eyes again. "Thanks. Now off to dinner with you."

Michael gave her a quick peck on the cheek then walked past her towards the stairs. As he reached the top, he turned around to Clara once again. "You know…Fred's a really good guy."

Stunned by his sudden spill of information, Clara stood with her head turned slightly. "And why are you telling me this?"

Michael shrugged. "Just thought you ought to know."

Clara smiled. "Well, I agree."

Michael beamed at her as he continued to jog down the stairs.

She shook her head as she walked downstairs to the organized chaos. Fred and George were playing with one of their products as Michael watched, Ron and Roman were busy playing wizard's chess as Harry observed the strategies both parties used, Ginny and Hermione were helping Molly set the table, and Arthur was discussing last minute wedding details with Bill and Fleur.

"Alright, everyone to the table!" Molly called out.

Little by little everyone made their way to the dining room table. Michael left a seat between him and Fred that Clara gladly took, shoving her brother when he smirked at her choice of seat. She shot Roman a look across the table as well when his smile grew a little wider than she liked. Looking over at Fred, she could tell he was giving George the same look. When Fred's eyes made contact with hers, he shrugged and smiled. Clara couldn't help but laugh as the food started to get distributed.

This was the last time their families would sit together for a happy meal for quite some time.


	16. Chapter 16

"Michael you tuck in your shirt this instant!" Clara shouted down the stairwell as Michael raced away from her.

She had no time for his shenanigans that day. It wasn't the smartest idea on her part, but Clara had volunteered to help get the girls and the bride get ready for the wedding.

And make sure her brothers were ready.

And help Mrs. Weasley make food for the wedding.

And clean up afterwards.

Between trying to make sure Michael wasn’t untucking his shirt for the eighth time and trying to tame Hermione's curls, Clara was sure she was close to losing her mind.

Roman stood at the bottom of the stairs with his arms folded, Michael nearly running full force into him.

"Put on your tie and tuck in your shirt," he told his brother.

Michael groaned as he pulled the loose tie from his pocket and popped his collar.

"There's a good lad," Roman teased, ruffling Michael's hair.

"Clara!" Molly called upstairs.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Are you nearly ready to help with the food?"

Clara sighed as she finished the last touches on Hermione's hair.

"Go, Clara. Mum needs you more right now," Ginny encouraged as she finished Fleur's make up. "I can handle it from here."

She shot Ginny a look of thanks as she made her way out the door.

With a pop, Clara apparated downstairs in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley. They started to put food out into the tent area while the rest of the Weasley men helped set up the chairs for their incoming guests.

"Clara, is that what you're wearing to the wedding?" Fred asked, eyeing Clara's t-shirt and jeans. Her hair was put up into a messy bun with several stray hairs falling out onto her shoulders. She had been up at some ungodly hour with his mum to start the day.

"It's gha-a-astly," George teased, promptly feeling a balled up napkin get thrown at his head.

"I'll be ready in due time," Clara clarified, straightening out a display. She looked at it with accomplishment, then turned to the twins. "Fred, why is it your tie is never tied when it needs to be?"

He shrugged. "Care to assist me?"

George rolled his eyes as he darted inside, hoping to steal a tart or two without his mother noticing.

Clara walked over, reaching up and tying Fred's tie.

"You alright?" he asked, noting the exhaustion on Clara's face.

"Have you ever tried to get a bride, two women, a brother, and food ready for a wedding in one day? It's a nightmare," she commented, pushing the knot of Fred's tie up so that it would tighten. She folded his collar down, then smoothed out his vest.

He held her elbows, forcing Clara to leave her hands resting on his chest.

"Still planning to be my date tonight?"

Clara smiled. "I never stand up a date."

Fred smiled, but not before he heard his mother shouting from the kitchen.

"GEORGE WEASLEY, YOU GET OUT OF THIS KITCHEN RIGHT NOW!"

Clara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her face scrunching up in annoyance. "He burnt something. I know he burnt something."

"Clara?" a meek Hermione called from the doorway.

"Hold that thought about tonight, okay?" Clara asked Fred.

He nodded. He looked past Clara to see George retreating out of the kitchen with black marks on his face. His smile was still plastered upon it, his hands holding two pumpkin pasties.

Clara jogged into the kitchen to see Molly fanning the oven and coughing.

"Mrs. Weasley, let me do this. You need to rest."

"No, no dearie. We have to finish this and–"

"Mum," Clara interrupted, facing Molly to the door. "You need to relax. Go with Hermione outside and I will take care of everything. Alright?"

She could hear Molly mumbling to herself in worry as she was forced outside with Hermione, Clara closing the door and leaning on it in relief.

"You shouldn't have volunteered," Roman snickered, standing at the entrance to the kitchen with Michael. Both of them were sleekly dressed in their black and white vests and ties, their robes hanging over their arms.

"I wanted to help. It was the least I could do since the Weasleys took us in this summer," Clara defended, inspecting the damage George had done to the main dish.

Roman nodded, putting an arm around his brother. "Come on, Mikey, we'll get settled outside."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

As it turned out, Clara had completely missed the ceremony so that she could finish preparing whatever food had been damaged. George felt guilty for it afterwards and offered to help. It caused Clara a good laugh as she pushed him out of the kitchen. Mainly, George felt bad because he had nearly ruined Fred's night with Clara.

Nearly.

As the reception began, people were amazed with the spread of food that appeared in front of them. Molly had clapped her hands with joy when she saw the salvaged dinner.

Fred and George took it upon themselves during the reception to help Michael talk to some of Fleur's younger cousins. He was a natural with the girls, which Fred took as an inherited gift when he saw Roman flirting with another girl from across the tent.

"Where's your date at mate?" George nudged when they had left Michael talking with a cute blonde girl from Beauxbatons.

"Not sure. I thought that once the dessert platters popped up, she'd be here."

"Fred!" he heard Ginny call to him.

He looked up and saw her pointing across the tent. Following her gesture, his mouth dropped slightly at the sight he beheld.

Clara walked through the tent, saying her hi's and hello's to various witches and wizards. She was wearing a maroon chiffon dress with no straps that went down to her mid thighs and hugged her curves. Her legs were accentuated by the black heels she wore. Her hair was down in messy waves, her eyes dusted with a light smokey make up and her lips kissed with a crimson red.

"Bloody hell," he heard George comment next to him.

Fred nudged his brother in the gut. "Excuse me, Georgie. I believe my date's just arrived," Fred announced, his smile starting to grow with each step he took towards Clara.

As he got closer, Clara's smile got brighter. She didn’t have to look up when she was talking with Hermione to see that Fred was approaching.

"May I steal this lovely woman away?" he asked politely, holding a hand out to Clara.

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes slightly while Clara chuckled.

Clara took Fred's hand and walked away with him towards the dancefloor. He spun her around before bringing her to him, one hand holding hers and the other holding her waist.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," she greeted, her eyes shining brightly into his.

"Hello, Miss Caxton," he replied. He looked her up and down one more time. "You clean up pretty well."

"So I'm told," Clara bragged.

"And very humble this evening," Fred teased.

Clara laughed. "You don't look too bad yourself."

"I wear this every day to work," Fred reminded.

"Then maybe you just look good every day," Clara flirted, her eyebrows jumping up and down as Fred spun her around again.

He laughed heartily as he pulled her back in, this time closer than before. Both of his hands rested on Clara's waist. "Good one, Caxton. Good one."

She beamed at him, her fingers lacing themselves behind Fred's neck.

The music slowed, Fred and Clara's movements limited to a sway. They stood much closer to one another than before, Clara feeling Roman's protective gaze on her back.

"You do look beautiful, Clara." Fred had been so close to Clara's ear that she shuddered, also feeling his breaths on her neck.

"Thank you. I'm glad you think so. You know how hard it is to make this ugly mug look good," she chuckled.

Fred shook his head. "You are terrible to yourself, you know that?"

Clara nodded as she rested her head on Fred's shoulder, her eyes feeling heavy.

"You alright?"

"Just drained from today."

He smirked, an idea popping into his head. "Come on."

Walking off the dancefloor, Fred took Clara's hand and dragged her into the Burrow and up the stairs.

"Why on Earth are we here, Fred Weasley?" she asked directly, an eyebrow raised at the twin that stood before her in his room. "You do realize how suspicious this looks, right? Roman was watching us while we were downstairs."

"I do," Fred noted. "But I wanted to un-pause our conversation from yesterday morning."

Clara froze slightly, unsure of what to say. She dropped onto Fred's bed and crossed her legs. "Now?"

"I've been waiting all summer to finally talk to you about it, and we got interrupted yesterday so I had to wait even longer so…yes, now."

He sat next to her and they both stared at the wall for a few minutes.

"Clara I –" "Fred I –"

They looked at each other quickly, not meaning to start talking at once. Fred could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, Clara could feel her cheeks getting hot.

"You go first," Clara offered.

Fred nodded, turning to face Clara. "I wanted to tell you that the other night…I didn't help you as a friend."

Clara was caught a little off guard by his words, her mouth open in uncertainty as she tried to think of what to say.

"And the reason for that is because I consider you to be more than a friend to me."

Clara nodded. "So you mean like…a best friend?" she asked, her mouth turning into a small smile.

Fred laughed, his bright grin lighting up the room. "A bit more than that."

"A sister?"

"A bit less than that."

Clara chuckled. "Well, Mr. Weasley, I wanted to tell you that I'm forever thankful for everything you do for me. I don't want to sound extremely cheesy, but I don't know what I'd do without your help."

"That was pretty cheesy."

She hit him lightly on the shoulder as Fred scooted closer to her.

"Do you think it was fate?"

"Fate?" she asked, her legs uncrossing and swinging back and forth as they hung over the side of the bed.

"That day when I saw you at the shop."

Clara pondered a moment. "It might have been. I like to think it was. I mean…look at all of the good that's come out of it."

Fred nodded. "Michael is pretty good prankster. And Roman is a great…scary guy."

"Is that the only thing you're going to know him as?"

"I'm the guy who likes his sister–his only sister–and you're seriously asking me that question?"

Clara laughed a little heartier than usual and leaned against Fred, her arm finding its way around his. His hand rested on her thigh. "He's just like my dad, you know. Just as intimidating, but also just a big softie once you get to know him."

Fred nodded. "So, Miss Caxton, what say you on your feelings about me?"

"What say me?" she asked, bringing her head up to look at Fred with one eyebrow raised.

He smirked at her with an expectant look in his eyes.

"Well, I–"

A scream outside snapped Clara's attention to the window behind her. She rushed to it and looked outside, seeing black hooded figures starting to destroy the beautiful wedding that Molly had planned for. Fred had come up behind her, his face flushing as he saw his family start to get attacked.

Without saying another word, Clara and Fred dashed downstairs with their wands and ran outside, sending curses any way that they could.

Between tables flipping and people apparating away, Clara couldn't get a good read on anyone. She saw Hermione, Harry, and Ron apparate out of the tent knowing that it would be the last time she'd see them in a long time. She had helped Hermione prepare for their journey a few weeks earlier by creating a few potions and packing Hermione's bag with her so that the trio would be able to leave at any moment's notice.

As she stood with Fred trying to fight off Death Eaters, Clara's eyes fell on a heart sinking sight.

Roman and Griffin were fighting with one another, their insults garbled by the screams of the wedding guests, while Michael was being dragged away by their mother.

"MICHAEL!" Clara yelled out. She ran away from Fred who had just missed pulling her back to him.

She ran as fast as she could to Michael, her mother turning around to see Clara racing towards them.

As she started to apparate away, Clara caught hold of Michael's hand and from there, it was a battle between her and her mother to see who would get a hold of who. She lashed out at her mother's face and clawed her mother's arm to get her to release Michael. She had been on the receiving end of a few slaps and punches herself.

They apparated to several different places. First they were at some dark mansion that chilled Clara to the bone. There was a heaviness in the air, dark magic permeating through everything Clara saw. Next they were back at the Caxton house which was now engulfed in flames. Clara could see more hooded figures there, casting spells and ruining what had once been the safest place she knew. The next place she saw was Diagon Alley, she and her mother landing them through a window of an old shop.

She heard Michael cry out as the glass cut a good sized gash in his arm.

"You blood traitor!" her mother hissed from across the room. She was standing up, trying to regain her balance.

Clara shook her head from the impact as she stood up to face her mother. "At least I didn't abandon my family!" she shot back. Her eyes darted from parts of the floor to her mother. Clara had lost her wand when they landed, losing her only defense against whatever her mother decided to throw her way.

"Griffin and Michael are my only family now."

"No, I'm not!" Michael argued, slowly standing next to his sister.

" _Crucio!_ "

Michael fell back to the floor in pain as his mother cursed him. His mind was writhing in agony as his body twisted and turned with the pain.

Clara immediately tackled her mother and started to claw and punch her.�  
"You–leave–Michael–alone!"

One more punch left Clara's mother slow to get up. Clara took the opportunity to find her wand and run to Michael in an effort to escape. They weren't in shape to fight her mother.

Not yet.

As she tried to apparate away, she could see her mother reach out for her one more time. It made Clara change locations at least two more times before she and Michael landed in the yard of the Burrow, free from their mother's wrath at last.

By the time they returned, the worst of it was over, Roman sitting in a chair taking a few deep breaths in recovery. His white shirt was splotched with dirt and his tie was loosened, his hair disheveled and a few new bruises graced his face.

Michael was on the ground a few yards away from his sister, curled in a ball. Roman rushed over to him and turned him over, Michael coughing as he regained his breath from the impact.

"Mikey? Mikey are you okay?" Roman asked, looking at the large slice in his brother's arm.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Michael confirmed shakily.

Roman could see Michael's attempt to hide the fear and pain in his eyes. He admired how brave his brother was being, but right now Roman was more concerned with his brother's safety.

Roman immediately pulled Michael in for a hug, holding his brother tightly.

Soon after, his attention was caught when Molly rushed past him. His gaze followed her to see Clara still on the ground. Fred and George were quick on Molly's heels, Roman immediately feeling his stomach sink.

"What's everyone shouting about?" Michael asked Roman, pushing away from his brother.

Roman held him tighter. "Ginny!" he called out.

The youngest Weasley rushed over to him, her eyes also locked on the sight before them.

"Take him straight inside, do you understand?"

Ginny nodded as she coaxed Michael from his position.

"Roman what–"

"Michael, you need to listen to me," Roman stated sharply, bringing Michael eye to eye with him as he held his shoulders. "Go straight inside. Do not look behind you, just go with Ginny and get your arm treated. I'll be up in a minute."

Michael had never thought that he'd see Roman scared. Roman was supposed to be the strong one. He was supposed to be the protector. At that moment, though, he saw through Roman's tough exterior right to his weakness: his family being hurt.

Michael stood up gingerly as Roman rushed past him, Ginny helping him walk inside.

His senses perked up when he realized who was missing from the array of people still at the Burrow.

What had happened to Clara?


	17. Chapter 17

Roman rushed to Clara's side, watching as Molly tried to pin point how extensive her injury was. She had pulled away the parts of Clara's dress that had been pushed into the wound, Clara moaning in pain as the fabric was separated from her flesh.

Clara was convulsing, everywhere from her shoulders up to her face splattered with blood as she looked in a panic from person to person.

George pulled Fred back against Fred's wishes, Fred's hands already covered in blood from helping his mum.

"Bloody hell, let me help her!" he shouted out in frustration, pushing against George.

"It's no use if you don't know what you're doing!" George argued, holding back Fred as best he could.

" _Accio dittany_ ," Roman directed at the house with his wand. A bottle came shooting out from his bag, through the front door, and straight to his hand. He tugged at the cork in the top with his teeth as he placed his thumb over the opening. "This is going to hurt, Clara," he muttered as he started to sprinkle the potion over his sister's wound.

She had nearly lost a good section of her torso, a long gash spreading across her stomach and part of her chest. As the dittany came into contact with her wound, she cried out in pain. The noise sent chills down Roman's spine which made it harder to continue.

"Just a little more, Clara. Just a little more, sweetheart," Molly comforted as she stroked Clara's hair and face. She looked at Roman reassuringly when she saw his hesitation.

Roman continued to pour, Clara's screams growing louder as the wound began to seal itself. He saw that Fred has stopped pushing against George to get to his sister, tears now falling from both twins' eyes as they watched helplessly from the sidelines.

She couldn't focus on anything that was going on around her. The fire that burned through her torso was so distracting that she couldn't settle herself. She tried to focus on the feeling of comfort that came from the person who was stroking her face, but even that was hard to reach for. The constant pain that shot through her body was the worst thing she had ever felt in her life.

"Arthur, take the boys and find something to put her on. We need to get her upstairs," Molly instructed as Clara's cries started to fade into whimpers.

George pulled Fred's arm with him as they followed their dad. They were able to find a large wooden board at the back of the house that was stable enough to put Clara on.

When they arrived with it, Fred knelt near Clara's feet, George near her head, and Roman at the middle. They counted off and moved her onto the board with minimal grunts of protest, and soon the twins were carrying Clara inside and into the room Ginny, Hermione, and Clara had been using.

As they walked past the various rooms in the hall, Roman looked into one to see Ginny wrapping Michael's arm.

The sight of the blood on Roman's shirt, hands, and arms made Michael's heart drop immediately to his stomach.

"Where is she?" he asked, walking away from Ginny.

Roman's eyebrows furrowed as he leaned against the doorway to block his brother from leaving.

"What happened to her?" Michael asked with more force.

"Ginny!" Molly called from down the hall.

Ginny looked at Roman apologetically as she pushed past him to get to her mother.

"No, no. I want all of you boys out of here!" Roman heard Molly shout.

Looking at his brother once more, Roman walked down to where Molly was pushing George and Fred out of the room. When he tried to go in, he too was being forced out.

"Mrs. Weasley, that's my sister in there." He tried to argue as calmly as he could, seeing his sister lying on the bed with traces of pain still etched on her face.

"And until she is good and ready, you all need to let her rest."

"Where's Clara? Where's my sister?" Michael shouted from the back of the pack, wincing when someone would push against his arm.

"Everyone downstairs this instant! And I don’t want to hear another peep otherwise!" Molly shouted with a sharp tone in her voice. She quickly turned on her heel and slammed the door shut, leaning on it as Ginny watched her mother with worry in her face. Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, she looked at her daughter with exhaustion.

"What do you need, Mum?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The men stood in the hallway in silence. The only thing they could hear from down the hall was Fleur crying and Bill's efforts to comfort her.

"Why don't you boys go and wash up, and we'll all wait downstairs, alright?" Arthur suggested, a strong hand settling on Fred's shoulder.

Fred, Michael, and Roman's gazes were fixed on the door in front of them. Knowing that Molly would have her way, though, Fred and George were the first to retreat to the bathroom to wash up.

Roman stood for a moment longer before turning to face Michael. His face was still scrunched in frustration and anger as he looked at his brother for answers.

"What happened to Clara?" he repeated.

Roman ignored his brother as he walked to another bathroom and closed the door, leaving Michael answerless as he stood by himself in the hall.

The eldest Caxton stripped away all of his blood-stained clothing and stepped into the shower, the hot water burning into his skin.

He was numb to the pain, though. He couldn't get the images of Clara out of his vision. Her cries echoed in his mind as he scrubbed away all of the evidence that his sister's struggle left behind. Part of him wished that he hadn't let Griffin distract him so much. If he had been watching Michael, maybe they would be in a different situation.

As he turned off the water and stepped out, he noticed that someone had brought him fresh clothes. He figured it was Michael.

He joined Fred, George, and Michael in silence downstairs. Arthur was outside trying to clean up what he could as a distraction.

Michael stood up when Roman entered the room, the twins looking up in acknowledgement.

"How's your arm?" Roman asked Michael as he took a seat in a chair to the right of the couch.

Michael looked down at it. "Useless."

Roman shook his head. "Make sure you thank Ginny when you see her."

"Why are you acting like nothing's wrong?" Michael snapped suddenly.

"Mikey–"

"Stop treating me like a child," Michael shot at Roman.

"I'll stop treating you like a child when you stop acting like one," Roman growled, standing and looking down at Michael. It was a gaze that shook George and Fred to their core, and they were amazed that Michael was still holding his ground.

Fred looked from brother to brother. "Hey, Mikey, Roman's just trying to–"

"–Stay out of this, Weasley," Roman cut off, his gaze still not leaving Michael's. "This isn't your family."

"Don't talk to Fred like that!" Michael defended.

"What is your problem, mate?" Fred argued, also standing up to Roman. 

"That's enough out of the lot of you," Molly scolded from the bottom of the staircase as she wiped her hands with a towel.

"How is she, Mum?" George asked.

"She's resting. And I'd prefer it to stay that way until tomorrow."

Ginny walked downstairs behind her mum, her face showing exhaustion but also worry now that Harry had left.

"Thank you, Ginny," Michael finally piped up, holding up his arm.

She smirked in acknowledgement, making her way outside to join her father.

"We've all had a long night. I suggest you all get some rest," Molly calmly instructed.

George walked over to his mum, Fred close behind as they put their arms around her and walked outside to join Ginny and Arthur. Roman watched as the Weasleys took a moment and just held each other, still shaken by the day's events.

He looked back at Michael, whose gaze also followed the twins outside. He stepped forward and put an arm around Michael's shoulders, walking with him upstairs.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred and George were getting ready for bed that night, Fred sitting on the edge of his bed and staring into space.

"Freddie?" George asked as he rested his head on his pillow. "You alright?"

He shrugged.

"Mum said she'll be fine," George comforted. "Said no organs were missing and that it was a hell of a splinch to have made it out of."

Fred nodded. The last time he had seen Clara's smiling face was only a few hours prior in that very room. They were so close.

So close to being completely open about how they felt.

George looked at his brother's features. He could see that his eyes were still red from earlier in the evening, his eyes showing more emotion than he knew his brother would care to let on.

"What's wrong?"

Fred looked up at George, his gaze channeling his hurt.

"It's not fair, you know?" he murmured.

George nodded. "Nope, it's not."

"What did she do to deserve this?"

"Nothing."

Fred took a deep breath.

"But from today on, it's time you started giving her what she does deserve, mate."

Fred cocked his head slightly.

"You know how you feel about her, and by the looks of it, things aren't going to get better before they get worse."

Fred nodded, lifting the blanket on his bed so that he could crawl underneath it.

As his head hit the pillow, he could feel the weight of the day settle in. His eyes felt extremely heavy and soon, he was lost in a dream.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

_"Michael?" Clara called out. "Roman?"_

_She was in the middle of a grove of trees, her vision aided by small streaks of sunlight that filtered through the leaves above her. Her feet were being touched by the cool dewy grass, the breeze blew gently through her hair._

_This place. She knew this place._

_Clara walked through the trees, not knowing where her feet were taking her. Her hands reached out to feel the bark of the trees. Their trunks were thick. Their bark was a deep brown and showed great age._

_"Rom–"_

_"Romy wait up!" a younger voice called from behind her._

_She whipped around to see a small red-headed girl running towards her. She was wearing a pink dress that already had numerous grass and dirt stains on it, and her hair was tied up with a blue ribbon. Her eyes were full of wonder and excitement, her hands stained a light red. The girl ran past Clara without giving her a second glance, as if she hadn't even been there, and started to run towards another figure Clara hadn't noticed._

_"Romy?" she asked herself._

_"You're too slow, Clara!" the little boy called back. His dark head of hair, freckles, and hazel eyes definitely led Clara to conclude that this was a young Roman. He kept running ahead of the young Clara, pausing to let her catch up, then running off again._

_She was tempted to follow. Where were she and her brother off to in a place like this?_

_The children went over every rock, stump, and little stream, their laughter filling the air as they ventured through this forest. It was as if they came there all the time, knowing every bend and cliff they ran into._

_Eventually the trio made their way to a river where Clara could see three more figures waiting for them._

_"Ahh, there you two are," the man greeted, kneeling down to scoop up the children in his arms. "And what sorts of trouble did you two get into today?"_

_Clara stood frozen as she kept her distance from the group. She felt as if she had become one of the trees, rooted to the spot she was in. "D-dad?" she whispered to herself._

_"Romy showed me where to get good strawberries today!" the younger Clara gushed._

_"Oh really? And did you bring any of them back for me?"_

_The two children looked at each other, looked at their strawberry stained hands, then burst out in a fit of laughter._

_"What's this? Not sharing with your father?" Clara watched as her father let the kids go and chased after them playfully. "You'll have to pay for that!"_

_As her father chased her and her brother around, Clara's gaze took her further towards the water, where she could see her mother, very pregnant, and a much younger Griffin splashing around in the cool river. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen her mother smile like that, let alone seeing her brother in a cheerful state._

_Slowly, the memory started to come back to her. Clara could nearly predict every move now, as if it was a movie she had seen one too many times. Her father would get Clara first, because she was always the slowest, then he'd pick up Roman and fling him over his shoulder. She always thought her father was so strong, and so loving._

_She watched as her father set the young children down near Ms. Caxton. The two ran into the water and started to splash Griffin and their mother, water going everywhere._

_Clara's brow furrowed, though, as the image before her slowed down. All of the water fell much more slowly and everyone's actions soon froze in place._

_As she looked around more, she could see one thing that stuck out to her: her father was looking straight at her._

_Again, she was too afraid to move. It wasn't because this was an odd predicament to be in, seeing as how she was visiting a memory very vividly, but because she was afraid that if she moved, her father would disappear out of her life once more._

_In a few blinks, she found her dad standing right in front of her, a broad smile on his face._

_"My Clara."_

_Clara smiled slowly, she reached up and brought her father into the warmest embrace she could muster. She was glad to know that his were still warmer._

_"I miss you," she whispered._

_"I know."_

_She didn't want to let go. Every bit of her wanted to stay there and just ignore everything else that was going on. It was the first time she had felt so at peace, so calm, so tranquil._

_"I'm proud of you," her father praised, looking down at his daughter's face. He pushed a few strands away from her eyes, gazing into the brown orbs that acted as a window into Clara's soul. "You amaze me every single day."_

_"I don't want to leave," she admitted, tears starting to stream down her face. "I want to stay here with you."_

_He smirked. "You know that you can't do that, Clarissa."_

_"But I want to!" she fussed, clutching her father's coat tighter. She could still smell his cologne and hear his strong heartbeat. That sound was always what made her push through when she was scared. As long as his heart was beating, she knew she was safe–that someone was protecting her._

_"You're always going to be my little girl, Clarissa."_

_She could hear his deep voice rumbling in his chest, the vibrations rattling around in her head._

_"I don't want to lose you again."_

_"You won't. I promise."_

_"But that's what you said before Griff–"_

_He put a finger to her lips, then caressed her face in his hand. He rubbed the tears away from her eyes with the pad of his thumb._

_"Every time you think of me, I'll be with you. Every time you laugh with your brothers, I'm there laughing with all of you. Every time you draw your constellations in the sky, I'm holding your hand and guiding you."_

_She sniffled._

_"Your brothers need you, Clarissa. They need you more than you need me."_

_"I'm not…strong enough, Dad."_

_"You are my daughter. You are the strongest person I know. You'll be fine, and I'm here–" He placed his pointer finger on her heart."–whenever you need me."_

_A smirk flashed across her face before tears started to leak out once more. She buried her face in her father's chest, holding on tightly to the memories she had left of him._

_"I love you, Clarissa."_


	18. Chapter 18

Michael jolted awake, his view of the ceiling lit only by the moonlight that shone through his window. For the second time that night, he had dreamt about what had happened to Clara. He kept revisiting the shop where his mother and Clara had fought over him. It shook him to his core to think that he had had an Unforgivable Curse used on him. Roman never even asked about it.

Then again, Clara's injury was definitely more pressing at the moment.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Part of him wished that he could go back to talking to that one girl at the wedding reception.

Giselle.

He could see her clearly. Her peach colored dress with her strawberry blonde hair caught his attention first. When he talked to her, she giggled at everything he said -- even if he wasn't being funny -- and he loved listening to her talk.

She loved Charms.

Her favorite color was lilac.

She was the same age as he was.

Her eyes lit up when she smiled.

He told her she was pretty.

She had smiled even more.

When Kingsley Shacklebolt's warning patronus had first flown into the tent, he and Giselle had frozen in place. Michael instinctively brought his wand out before the chaos began. He had grabbed Giselle protectively and brought her back to her sister. Before he knew it, Giselle and her sister had apparated away from the scene as Death Eaters started to show up. He had gone to look for Roman.

Roman.

Where was Roman?

He looked towards the bed that sat on the opposite side of the room from him. The covers didn't even look like Roman had made it to their bedroom.

Michael stretched his arms and made his way out of bed, grabbing the blanket off of Roman's bed and walking into the hallway. He looked to his left and right, noting that all of the doors were closed except for one.

He walked as quietly as he could, avoiding squeaky floorboards, and followed the distinct sound of Roman's snoring. Pushing the door open gently, he saw Roman sitting in a chair next to Clara's bed. His arm was outstretched towards Clara. His hand was resting on her arm.

Michael entered quietly, walked over to Roman, and draped the blanket over his brother.

"Whozzat?" Roman slurred as he woke from his sleep.

"It's just me," Michael answered.

Roman rubbed his eyes as he focused on his brother, making sure it was really him. "What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

Roman nodded as he looked towards Clara. "Mrs. Weasley couldn't keep us out of here if she tried."

"I think she knew that already."

Roman nodded with a smirk. He gestured to the other chair in the room.

Michael grabbed it and sat across from his brother. His eyes eventually rested on Clara's sleeping face. "Roman, what happened to her?"

He heard his brother sigh. "It's not an uncommon thing. What happened wasn't your fault either."

Michael shifted his focus to his brother, waiting for his answer.

"Clara…she was splinched."

"'Splinched'?" Michael asked.

"It can happen when you apparate. Part of you gets left behind when you don’t focus hard enough on your destination. My guess is that Clara was trying to get you both back here and had to make a few split second decisions in between."

"How bad is it?"

"It could have been worse…Mrs. Weasley said it's just her flesh that was missing. The potion I used should have fixed most of it."

Michael nodded.

Roman took a good look at his younger brother. As much as he hated to admit it, Michael was growing up. After what had happened that night, he knew that Michael would want to do so much more. He'd want to be more involved and would probably put in his opinion, even if he didn't want it. Roman couldn't keep him protected forever.

"What happened to you and Clara when Mum took you?"

Michael's head immediately snapped up to his brother. He slunk down in his chair a bit as he subconsciously grabbed his arm that sat in the sling.

"She took us to a few places. I think since Clara latched on, she wanted to lose her as fast as possible. We crashed through a window -- I think we were in Diagon Alley -- and she and Clara were fighting. She told Clara that I was her only family with Griffin…"

Roman wasn't surprised.

"…and I told her I wasn't."

Roman raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure that went over well."

"If you think the Cruciatus Curse was the way to reward me, then yes."

Roman sat up immediately, his eyes wide. "What? How could she do that? Who in the hell does she think she is?"

Michael's eyebrows pulled together as he avoided making eye contact with his brother. "It doesn't matter now. Clara protected me. Now look where she ended up."

Roman took a few moments to calm himself. "This is not your fault," he repeated to his brother. "But, when you want to protect people and you want to be involved in something big like this, this is what happens. People get hurt."

Michael thought back to Mad Eye and George as his brother's words echoed in his head.

"Are you sure that you want to still do this?"

Michael looked up at his brother whose face was now a little softer, a little more concerned. His gaze fell to his sister. "I don't know if I have much of a choice."

"You do."

This was just the tip of the iceberg, and Michael knew it. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice his brother move his chair so that he was now sitting next to Michael. It surprised him when he felt Roman put his arm around Michael's shoulders.

"Just know that you don’t have to act like none of this bothers you. It bothers me too, you know. I hate to see you both get hurt on my watch."

Michael nodded. "It isn't your fault, either."

Roman was silent for a while. Those words were probably the ones he needed to hear all night.

Soon the two brothers fell asleep, watching over their sister as the night went on.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next morning, Roman and Michael joined the Weasleys outside as they started to clean up the mess that the Death Eaters and party guests had left behind. Broken glasses, overturned tables, soiled decorations -- Molly was disappointed that so much had been ruined.

Roman had been helping Bill and Arthur move most of the tables while Michael had been helping the twins wash and rinse tables and chairs. Ginny, Fleur, and Molly were inside fixing what they could of the dishes and table cloths.

When the group had gathered that morning, Michael could feel the tension between Roman and Fred. They hadn't spoken a word to each other, but they had definitely made sure that they weren't working together that day.

As Michael waved his wand to rinse another chair, he could hear snickering behind him. It was suspicious, especially when he knew that he was working with Fred and George. He ignored them. Roman had made it clear to him that he needed to work hard to help the Weasleys today. The last thing he wanted to do was make Roman upset.

A few bubbles floated past his face, Michael not giving them a second glance.

Then he felt it. A huge splash of water fell onto his head. Water ran down into his clothes which made Michael shiver. Bubbles started to multiply in his hair as he whipped around to face the culprits behind him.

"Oi!" He cried out, reaching up and feeling his head full of soap and suds. "You two!"

Fred and George were almost rolling on the ground laughing.

Michael quickly reacted, mimicking the spell and aiming it back at the twins. Fred had taken it full force, his hair and clothes covered in bubbles. George had dodged it, sticking out his tongue at Michael.

"Gonna have to do better than that, mate!" He teased.

Michael's face twisted into an evil grin as he pointed his wand at a nearby scrub brush.

Faster than George could say Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he found himself being chased around by a scrub brush, Fred and Michael now having a turn to laugh at him.

"Michael," a stern voice called across the yard.

Michael immediately froze and turned to the voice.

Roman walked over, stopping to cross his arms. He looked at Michael expectantly as bubbles continued to pop on Michael's head.

"I thought I told you that we needed to help the Weasleys today."

Michael nodded. "We were just taking a break is all."

"Yeah, mate. Just a quick break. Mum and dad don't expect everything to get done today," Fred added. He pushed some of the bubbles off of his head as he slicked his hair back away from his eyes.

"Last I checked I was his brother. Michael will listen to me as he needs to," Roman clarified, his eyes still set on Michael. "Wash up and come back out."

Roman turned around and started to walk back to Arthur and Bill.

Fred watched as Michael's bubble of happiness had been popped. The youngest Caxton dragged his feet as he walked back to the house.

"Oi, why don't you leave him be every once in a while?" Fred called out.

Michael froze in his tracks and watched Roman carefully, not knowing what his reaction would be.

Roman chuckled as he faced Fred. "I just treat him the same way my father treated me. We worked hard. We didn't let anything slip by. Not all of us can enjoy being immature forever, Weasley."

Fred's ears turned nearly as red as his hair as he took a deep breath. "At least your sister seems to enjoy my immaturity."

George closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together. There was no way that this conversation was going to end well.

Roman walked over to Fred, his large strides allowing him to meet Fred within seconds. "My sister usually has better taste in the boys she decides to bring home. You don't hold a candle to her last one, might I add. Oliver was a great guy."

"Leave him alone, Roman!" Michael chimed in.

"Clara is not any of your concern," Roman continued, ignoring Michael.

Fred's jaw was already clenched at the thought of being second best to Oliver. He collected himself, replying coolly, "As a matter of fact, I believe she is. I don't remember you being there for her when your mother decided to go about hurting her last year."

"And you weren't there protecting her when Griffin left us!" Roman shouted, almost in a roar. His eyes were wide with anger as sweat beaded down his face.

Michael stood rooted to the spot he was at. His heart was pounding as he saw Fred and Roman argue.

"What gives you the right to tell me how to take care of my own family?" Roman growled.

With that, the two started to argue incessantly. George stepped in, trying to mediate between the two, but all it did was make Roman angrier. Before Michael knew what was going on, there was a full fist fight going on between the three men. Arthur and Bill jogged over and tried to pull them apart, but there was no way to do so without getting hurt.

Michael didn't know what to do, his mind flooded with his own voice of reason and the shrill remarks coming from the Weasleys and his brother. As his eyes tried to focus on who was holding who and who had hit who, he saw something in the air that caught his attention.

Silver streaks weaved around him and floated towards the group. They started to gather together to form two large, four-legged creatures. A low noise started to fill the air. Soon, the group had frozen in place when they heard vicious, bone-chilling growls coming from two silver wolves. Their eyes were an intense white as they stalked the group. One walked towards Roman and the other towards Fred in an attempt to separate the two.

Fred immediately backed away, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as Roman slowly stood up and looked down at the wolf.

Once the two were separated, the wolves looked back at the entrance to the Burrow, the group's gaze following.

Michael stood with Clara's arm wrapped around his shoulders for support as Clara held her wand in the air, silver streams pouring out of it.

The wolves immediately returned to Clara's side, seeming to protect her as she stood on her own. She shot looks of disappointment at Roman and Fred before turning around to walk back inside. "Come, Mikey. Let's go and rest."

Michael nodded as he followed his sister and her protectors up the stairs of the Burrow, leaving the men in awe and silence.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Later that afternoon, Clara and Michael were sitting on her bed in her room talking about school and what he was going to do this coming term.

"Of course things are going to be different," Clara explained. "The school hasn't seen a new headmaster in how many years…"

"That's what I'm worried about," Michael replied. "Who is it going to be?"

A knock at the door caught their attention. As it squeaked open, Roman peered in. He was sporting a few bruises on his face as well as a cut lip.

Clara took a deep breath and focused on her fidgeting hands. Michael shifted in his seat.

"May I come in?"

Clara shrugged.

Roman walked in and sat in the other empty chair that was next to Clara's bed.

"Clara I–"

"You're an idiot, you know that?" she immediately snapped.

He raised his eyebrows. "Me? I'm the one trying to help our family and you're calling me an idiot?"

Clara closed her eyes and shook her head as she sighed deeply. "I don't think you remember what helping the family means."

Roman scoffed.

"What you told Fred was out of line."

"He was being a prat."

"No, Roman, you were being the prat. What did Fred ever do to you anyway? All he's done is help us. His family has helped us."

Roman sat in silence, his arms folded across his chest. It was the first time Michael had ever seen him so speechless. It was also the first time he had ever seen Clara so direct with him.

Clara looked at her brother long and hard as she tried to read his face. He avoided eye contact as much as possible. She shook her head. "You aren't dad, you know," she mumbled under her breath.

Roman's attention snapped to his sister. "What did you say?"

"I said," Clara repeated, her voice suddenly much stronger, "you. Are. Not. Dad. So stop acting like you're our father and start acting like you're our brother."

The room was so silent, Michael thought that his siblings could hear his heart beating in his chest.

Roman leaned back in his chair and slumped down, his eyes gazing into space. "I just…I want to protect you two." Roman's voice had become unusually quiet. His strong features melted away as he continued. "When I saw you there yesterday, I didn't know how to handle it."

Clara watched her brother, her hard expression not wavering.

"When Michael told me about mum cursing him, I felt even worse."

"You felt threatened by Fred, didn't you?" Michael asked softly.

Roman looked at Michael and for the first time, Michael could see his vulnerability in his eyes. The hard, strong man Michael had always seen his brother to be was no longer there. He looked defeated and exhausted.

Clara sighed as she gestured for Roman to sit on the other side of her so that she was sandwiched between her two brothers. She laced her fingers between theirs as they leaned against the wall behind them.

"Fred will never replace you," Clara told Roman, squeezing his hand. "Michael and I love you way too much to ever see anyone taking your place in this family. You will always be our protector and provider, alright?"

Roman was silent.

"We just want Roman, though. Not 'Roman-Trying-To-Be-Dad'. Just Roman. Just…Romy."

" _Romy?_ " Michael asked questioningly, leaning forward so that he could look at Roman around Clara.

Roman reached over and swatted Michael on the head lightly as his face cracked a small smile.

Clara smirked. "Now, I think you owe someone an apology."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Later that night, Clara sat in her room by herself. She was practicing her patronus. Her mind was too active to try and rest anymore. Every once in a while, she could feel a sharp pain from where her splinch was, but aside from that she was feeling much better.

She hadn't heard from anyone else aside from Molly and Ginny for the rest of the day. She had sent Michael and Roman away so that she could rest, but also so that they could spend time with one another. She thought that was just what Roman needed after the days he had been having.

She didn't blame him for acting the way that he did. Having it all come out in that way was something she wasn't okay with.

A small knock came at the door, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Are you decent?" a familiar voice called to her.

Straightening up, Clara replied, "Depends whether or not you'd like me to be."

"As if you needed to ask."

Fred opened the door to Clara's room with two plates of food in hand. "Mum wanted me to bring you dinner."

"And who's the second plate for?"

"Well I didn't want you to eat by yourself."

Clara smiled as she shifted herself over on her bed to make room for Fred.

He handed her a plate and for a few minutes, the two of them ate in silence.

"Did Roman talk to you?" Clara asked as she set down her nearly finished plate.

Fred nodded. "We're square now. Could tell it took everything in him to apologize, though."

"Yeah, he's not much of the apologizing type."

Fred's eyebrows jumped up and down quickly in response. "He cares about you a lot, though."

Clara nodded. "And how are you?"

Fred shrugged, also setting down his plate. "I'm alright. I was worried sick about you, that's for sure."

Clara looked over Fred's features. Like Roman, his eyes were slightly reddened and dark bags had settled in under his brown eyes. "I'm sorry about that."

Fred waved her off. "It happens to the best of us. I'm just glad you're still in one piece."

"And that’s putting it loosely considering how I got hurt," Clara laughed.

Fred smiled when he saw Clara's beaming expression. He moved their plates to the adjacent chairs and lied down on Clara's bed. Opening up his arms, he invited Clara in to lie with him. She smirked and obliged, curling up to his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

It was strong, like her father's.

She felt him kiss the top of her head and stroke her hair. As she clutched his shirt tighter in her hand, Clara asked him, "Are you sure you're alright?"

A few silent moments passed. "I was so scared that I had lost you," he whispered. His grip on her grew a little tighter.

For a moment, the only sound in the room you could hear was a small sniffle and a deep breath exhaled by Fred.

She held on to him tighter. "You can't get rid of me that easily. Even if you fired me."

Fred laughed more heartily than he expected as he wiped a few tears from his eyes.

Clara smiled as she closed her eyes. "Freddie?"

"Yes?"

"Don't leave me tonight."

"Wouldn't dream of it."


	19. Chapter 19

Sunlight filtered through the curtains in the bedroom and cast a golden glow on the room. Fred's eyes flitted open as he took in his surroundings. He could feel the exhaustion in his bones as he turned his head. It was then that he remembered that he hadn't fallen asleep alone. A small smile graced his face as his eyes wandered over Clara's frame. He appreciated how the sunlight kissed her brown locks, how her oversized sleeping shirt hugged her curves as she laid on her side facing away from him.

He slid his arm around her waist where he found it fit perfectly, pulling her gently towards him as he buried his face in her hair. A small groan caused her body to vibrate against his, his smile only growing wider.

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

"I'm not complaining," he heard, Clara turning her body slowly to face Fred.

"Good morning."

"Good morning." Clara couldn't help but allow herself to release a smile. She couldn't help but notice the tremendous difference in Fred's eyes that morning. His stresses seemed to have melted away. There was a light in his eyes that she hadn't seen the day prior. He was happy.

And it was infectious.

Fred released her, sat up, and stretched his arms over his head. "How's your splinch feeling?"

Clara sat up with a wince, placing her hand tenderly on her abdomen. "It's better than it was yesterday. I'm definitely not back up to 100% yet."

"No one expects you to be. You've got lots of time to rest." Fred smiled as he brushed some of Clara's hair out of her face.

A light blush painted itself on Clara's cheeks as she tried to resist a smile.

"Not that I don't want to spend my morning in here with you, but I'm sure Roman will have a cow if he catches me here."

Clara laughed. "You act as if we're teenagers sneaking around behind our parents' backs."

"Technically the second half is true, except your parent is your big, scary, almost-knocked-my-lights-out brother. I'd rather not be on the receiving end of that again."

She rolled her eyes as she kicked her legs over the side of her bed. "I'll see you later then?"

"You can count on it."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"I was thinking that I'd go home and grab a few more things before I head off tomorrow," Roman explained, shoveling another forkful of pancakes into his black hole of a mouth.

"Can I come with you? I wanted to get some of my things too," Michael asked.

"You can't," Clara stated quickly, setting down her fork. "None of us can go home. At least not now."

"Weren't you the very one who wanted to go back at the beginning of the summer? I'm sure Griffin and Mum aren't there," Roman excused.

"It's not that."

The Weasleys were outside and around the house, finishing up cleaning the mess that had been left behind. Bill and Fleur had also left that morning, heading to the Shell Cottage so that they could be secluded and be a safe house for the Order. Ginny was packing her trunk with great reservation, her parents insisting that she go back to school this term. Michael was also dragging his feet in doing so, his state of mind being the same as Ginny's. Things needed to seem as normal as possible, though, now that more eyes were watching them. The last thing both families wanted to do was risk punishment for their youngest not returning to Hogwarts that term.

"When Mum was apparating us everywhere the other night, one of the places we ended up was back at the house. It's…it's destroyed."

Michael swallowed hard as he thought about all of the trinkets Roman had collected for him, all of the photos that hung in the house, all of the memories that he had made within those walls.

Roman's brow furrowed as he sipped his orange juice.

"Besides, do you have to leave so soon?" Clara asked, a whine starting to leak into her voice.

"Yes, I do. Charlie needs me back so that we can protect whatever dragons we have. The last thing we need is You-Know-Who to get his hands on them. I would hate to see them used for evil things."

Clara nodded, but sighed deeply in disappointment.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask you, when did you manage to conjure your patronus?" Roman asked Clara.

She shrugged. "I'm not even sure. It just sort of…happened."

"How do you conjure a patronus?" Michael asked.

"You need to think of a happy memory–the happiest memory you can remember. Then you say the incantation and poof! A patronus," Clara explained.

"Wicked. You weren't able to do one before?"

"We tried," Roman explained, "but Clara couldn't ever conjure one."

"None of my memories had been strong enough."

"What changed, then?"

"Was it Fre-e-e-ed?" Michael teased.

Clara quickly shoved him as she laughed. "You're so silly, Michael Caxton." She stared off into space as silence filled the air. "I thought about Dad."

"What memory did you finally settle on?" Roman asked.

Clara looked up at Roman. "That day when you, Dad, Griffin, Mum, and I had gone to the stream."

Roman paused midway through lifting more food to his mouth and looked at his sister in surprise. "That was years ago. I don't even think Mikey was born yet."

"No, he wasn't. Mum was pregnant with him, though. She and Griffin were playing in the water when you and I had gone to pick strawberries."

Roman chuckled. "Dad chased us around because we didn't bring him any." He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought for a moment. "How could you remember that? You were barely three-years-old."

Clara fiddled with her hands. "I had a dream the other night. It was that memory."

"What else happened in your dream?" Michael asked.

Clara smirked as she let out a small puff of air. "I talked to Dad."

"'Talked to Dad'?" Roman questioned. "How could you have possibly done that?"

"I don't know, alright? I just…did." She stared into space as she revisited her father in her mind. "He hugged me – his hugs are still so…warm."

Roman and Michael found themselves hanging onto her every word. Michael was envious, not having many memories with their father. Roman felt a tightness in his chest as he clenched his jaw, trying not to let any emotions slip out.

"I could hear his heartbeat when I pressed my head into his chest. His cologne smelled exactly the same." Looking at her brothers, Clara let out a small smirk. "He told me that he was always going to be with us. I guess that was the strongest memory that I could hold onto."

"It's interesting," Roman continued, clearing his throat.

"Interesting?" Michael asked.

"Clara's wolves…they're interesting."

"Why?" Clara asked.

"They're the same as Dad's."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"Okay, Mikey, you have to think of the happiest memory you've ever had. Let it fill you up, alright?" Roman instructed. The group was standing outside with the intention of teaching Michael how to cast his first patronus.

"Alright," Michael confirmed with a nod. He closed his eyes and began to go through all of the memories he had. There were ones with him and Roman, some with Clara and him, and some that he could remember with his mother. He picked one, hoping it was strong enough.

"Ready?" Clara asked.

"No pressure, mate. Not everyone gets it on their first try," George encouraged, patting Michael on the back. "Took Freddie and I at least three or four times to get it."

Michael nodded. He held his wand out in front of him, the afternoon sun blaring down on the group. " _Expecto patronum._ "

Nothing happened.

Michael furrowed his brows at his wand as he looked it over.

"Try again. Make sure you pick something strong," Ginny encouraged.

Michael nodded. He thought again, then held his wand out. " _Expecto patronum._ "

Again, nothing happened.

He looked at each face that surrounded him. "Can you all turn away. This is way too much pressure."

Clara chuckled. "Alright, Mr. Stage Fright."

She felt a small rock hit her back as Roman chuckled at his siblings.

Michael closed his eyes, picking a new memory. He thought back to when he had first started to learn how to play Quidditch. He was flying around in a park with Clara, Roman, and Griffin. He could remember his mother clapping for him on the sidelines and his father's large smile as he watched his youngest boy continue in his siblings' footsteps. He could remember that his father said he'd probably be the best of the bunch if he practiced hard enough.

He took a deep breath. With more force and assertion, Michael stated, " _Expecto patronum!_ "

A bright light shot out of the end of his wand. He stood in shock as he watched the silver streaks surround him and collect together. Slowly, he saw them start to take shape. First he saw a tail, then a strong body that walked on all fours. It ruffled its mane and soon turned its head towards Michael in acknowledgement.

"How'd you do, Mikey?" Roman asked. He turned around to see his brother standing face to face with a lion. "Bloody hell."

Clara turned next and beamed with pride as she watched the lion and Michael interact. She brought out her own wand and cast her patronus, her wolves walking over to Michael.

"Wicked!" George exclaimed. He and Fred also cast their patronuses, a hyena and a fox joining in on the fun.

Ginny waved her wand and a horse jumped out of her wand, prancing around the group as it shook out its mane.

Roman shook his head with a smile. He was almost certain that this was not what patronuses were supposed to be used for, but he cast the notion aside. " _Expecto patronum._ "

Fred and George were stunned and amazed to see a patronus in the shape of a Hippogriff before them.

"That's bloody brilliant," Fred complimented.

Roman smiled in appreciation.

"Looks as though all of you are quite the young witches and wizards," Arthur commented as he walked out of the Burrow.

"Look, Mr. Weasley!" Michael exclaimed proudly, his lion standing regally next to him.

Arthur laughed. "Very good. Wonderful!"

"Dad, you think you could teach us how to use our patronuses to talk to other members of the order?" George asked. "In case any of us get split up."

Arthur paused in thought for a moment. "I don't see why not."

The rest of the afternoon, Arthur taught the group how to convey messages through their patronuses just as Kingsley had done during the wedding.

After they had all mastered the skill, they began to practice dueling. They taught each other spells, Ginny running the session as if it were another meeting of Dumbledore's Army. Michael had done so well that she told him that he could join them once they got back to school. He was thrilled.

As various shades of pinks and purples graced the sky, Molly walked outside as she wiped her hands on her apron. "Dinner's ready."

The group all walked inside, Arthur patting Michael on the back for a well done performance that afternoon. Even Clara had to admit that she was very impressed by Michael's talent. Maybe he had been paying attention in more classes than just Charms.

Everyone sat down at the table in conversation, the afternoon's activities seeming to spark some hope in them. Clara couldn't help but notice that George and Fred were talking in hushed tones a lot of the time, their usual smirks of mischief replaced by serious expressions. She had caught Fred's eye at some point, but he quickly brought his attention back to his brother.

Dinner was a wonderful spread, chicken, mashed potatoes, and mixed veggies filling everyone's plates.

"I just wanted to say that you all did a marvelous job today," Arthur announced as everyone ate their meals.

Michael smiled to himself as he ate another mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Dad would be proud," Roman whispered to him, nudging his arm with a smirk.

Clara swore that Michael's smile was so large that it was going to fall off of his face.

"Hopefully when you two go back to school, you'll be able to keep practicing," Molly commented to Ginny and Michael.

"Hard to say since we don’t even know who the new headmaster is," Ginny added.

"That's true. So boys, Clara, what're you going to do with yourselves once Ginny, Michael, and Roman leave?"

Clara let out a small shrug. "Without the shop it's hard to say. I'm not sure how much mischief Mrs. Weasley can handle out of the lot of us being under one roof." She smiled as she looked at Fred and George, but they were casting looks towards each other that told her they already had other plans.

"Boys?" Arthur asked, also picking up on their change in demeanor.

"Um…well we've received word from Lee. You remember Lee Jordan, right?" Fred asked Clara.

She nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this thread of conversation.

"He asked us if we could help him with this little project…" George added.

"He's calling it Potterwatch."

"He's going to broadcast to the wizarding community–keep them informed."

"And he wants us to join him."

"And where would you be doing this?" Molly asked first. Both her face and Arthur's were etched with concern.

"Oh…here and there," Fred answered. "He's already started the broadcast but he's been having trouble because he has to move so often."

"Yeah, on account of Death Eaters coming 'round."

"Alright, George, you could have left that part out."

"Absolutely not," Molly snipped. "I will not have my boys running around and putting themselves in danger."

"Mum, we'll be fine! We need to keep the world informed, especially since the Ministry and little Percy aren't going to," Fred argued.

It was the first time Clara, or anyone else at the table, had seen the twins rebel this strongly against their mother. If there was anyone that could keep them in line, it was Molly. They were deathly afraid of her when she got mad. Clara couldn't think of anyone who wouldn't be.

"I've already lost one child to all of this nonsense," Molly shrilly commented, thinking about Percy, "and with Ron gone too–I'm not putting any more of my children through this!"

"We leave in five days, Mum. It's final." George and Fred stood up and walked away from the table, leaving its occupants in shock.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred sat outside, drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick he had found. He didn't know how long he'd been out there for, but the argument he and his brother had at dinner with their parents was still swirling around in his head.

They wanted to help Lee in any way they could. When the opportunity presented itself for them to keep people up to date on things that were happening, they all saw it as a chance to really make a difference. There wasn't any aspect of this war that wasn't going to be dangerous, and it definitely beat waiting around in the Burrow for something else to happen.

A strong wind blew past him, his drawings fading away from view. With a deep sigh, he started to draw once more.

Out of nowhere, he felt a warm blanket fall onto his shoulders. A small body sat next to him and nudged his arm that was holding the stick.

"Now you've gone and ruined my art piece. Thanks for that," he teased with a half-smile, looking over at Clara.

She returned his half smile. "I'm sorry things didn't go as you wanted tonight."

Fred shook his head as he sighed. "Mum's never really approved of the path Georgie and I set ourselves on. But I know she's just trying to be protective of us. Wants what's best for us." 

Clara nodded. "Are…are you sure you and George are gonna go and do this?"

After a few moments, Fred nodded. "We have to help."

Clara nodded again, folding her arms together. Fred moved his arm and draped the blanket over Clara, pulling her closer as he wrapped his arm around her. He could tell that Clara was trying not to put in her two cents about the situation. Surely she didn't want the twins to leave just as much as their mother did, but Clara also understood that they were very driven people. Once they had their minds set on something, there wasn't much to do to change their course of action.

"I sent Michael to talk to George with Ginny…he was really worried after dinner." She paused. "He supports you both, by the way. And I know your dad and Roman were talking to your mum about it after dinner. I'm hoping they were able to bring her 'round to the idea."

Fred nodded, reading the concern on Clara's face. "By the way, you never finished telling me how you felt the other night," Fred reminded, changing the subject.

Clara laughed slightly as she rested her head on Fred's shoulder, leaning back so that her motion brought both of them to the ground. There were nearly no clouds in the sky above them, millions of stars greeting them with various twinkles and sparkles.

"I'm not sure if you really need my explanation," Clara teased, grabbing Fred's hand and starting to connect stars above them with his finger.

"Oh, so I spill out my heart to you, help to save your life, and help nurse you back to health and I get 'I'm not sure if you really need my explanation'?" he ranted with a smile. He felt Clara nudge him in the ribs lightly.

"Well, when you put it that way…" Clara finished her artwork, sat up, and leaned over Fred. Her eyes ran all over his face, taking in every freckle and wrinkle she could find. In a few days, she wouldn't see it for quite some time. She wanted to memorize every detail about him before he left. "Fred Weasley, I like you. A lot. A lot more than I ever realized that I could like a person. You've done so much for me and I honestly don't know what I'm going to do without you when you leave…"

Fred propped himself up on his elbow, his hand holding Clara's face. "You'll continue living, just as you did before you met me. You're strong, Clara. And I'll be back before you know it."

Clara nodded vigorously, her eyes stinging with tears.

Fred ran his hand through Clara's hair before bringing it back to her face. "I guess this means I can't fire you now, huh?"

She laughed as she lowered herself down so that their chests were pressed together, their faces merely inches apart. "I suppose not, Mr. Weasley."

Fred smiled as he looked into Clara's eyes. He was so happy and calm when he looked into them. Their light brown hue mesmerized him, allowing him to see Clara for everything she was and would always be: strong, kind, creative, and loving.

Clara felt Fred pull her face towards him, both of their eyes closing as the distance between them shrank. Her heart was racing so fast she could hear pounding in her ears. When their lips made contact, she tensed up. For a moment, everything that had happened in the past few days caught up to her and she was scared. With Fred leaving and everything happening so quickly, she didn't know what would happen to them.

Fred sat up slightly, deepening the kiss. Clara felt his hand move away from her face and felt a strong arm snake around her waist. The feeling of doubt slowly melted away as she let herself finally succumb to the person that she had wanted the most.

When their first kiss ended, the couple looked at each other in slight surprise. Their deep breaths filled the silence as they caught their breaths, their minds catching up to what the implications of this kiss revealed.

"Well that was–"

"–amazing," Fred finished, a large smile growing on his face.

Clara couldn't help but giggle and blush as she rested her face in Fred's neck. "Brilliant."

Fred turned over so that he was now leaning over Clara, the stars lighting up her eyes. It was as if he was looking at a new side of her. She was vulnerable, but not afraid of the feeling. Everything felt right, she was right, and Fred knew he couldn't let her go.

He kissed her again as his hand sat on her hip. The pad of his thumb rubbed circles on the bare skin that peeked out between her shirt and shorts as he closed the gap between their bodies.

Her hands sat on his shoulders and slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, one hand snaking its way through his red hair.

She broke the kiss, her eyes still closed and her forehead resting against his. "Fred."

"Yeah?"

"I don’t want you to go." Her voice fell to a whisper, cracking as tears pressed against her eyes.

Fred sat up and pulled Clara with him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she did the same. He stroked her hair as he looked at the stars overhead. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice much smaller than it had been earlier, "but I have to help."

Clara nodded in understanding, but it didn't stop the tears from falling.

Fred felt Clara tremble as more tears fell, coming to grips that his decision needed to be the right one.

And he needed to make sure that he and George made it back alive.


	20. Chapter 20

Clara, Michael, and Roman stood outside of the Burrow, Roman holding the bags he had brought at the beginning of the summer.

"If you need me, just send a patronus and I'll come back as quick as I can," he informed.

Clara nodded, squinting her eyes in the sun that shone behind Roman. She stood up straight and tall as she rested a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"You sure that you're gonna be okay?" Michael asked again for the millionth time that morning.

Roman smiled brightly as he pulled Michael towards him, trapping him in a strong embrace.

Clara watched as Roman's smile slid off of his face the longer he hugged his brother. They rocked together for a few moments.

"I'll be fine, Mikey," Roman said in his most convincing tone. His eyes seemed haunted, as if he knew that this would more likely than not be the last time he saw his siblings. Looking at Clara, he continued, "Just be strong for me."

Michael nodded as he held onto his brother tighter.

"Alright, you can't hog him all day," Clara attempted to joke.

Michael hesitantly let go of Roman, wiping his nose on his sleeve quickly as he stood up straight.

Clara walked over and tip toed so that she could reach Roman's shoulders in her embrace. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. "You be safe."

Roman nodded. "Take care of yourself."

"I will."

Clara let go and took a few steps back, feeling Michael wrap his arm around her shoulders.

Roman looked at his two siblings with a smirk. "I'll see you soon."

The two siblings nodded, watching their brother gather his things.

Soon he apparated away, their family broken apart once again.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Later that day, Clara and Michael were in his room packing away whatever things Michael had left. He and Ginny were leaving the next day for Hogwarts.

Every time Clara tried to talk to him, Michael had given her one worded answers or avoided her completely. It was hard to see him like this and not be able to help him.

She folded a few more shirts and put them into his trunk. Turning to her brother, she could see him looking at a photograph of the three siblings that Fred had taken of them during one of the holidays. He had received it from the twins as a birthday present that year. Clara hadn't seen him so happy with a gift since she had gotten him his broomstick.

The silence in the room brought Michael's attention to Clara. "What?"

She shrugged. "Nothing." Clara took a seat on Michael's bed as she rubbed her abdomen lightly.

"You should go downstairs and take a break. I can handle the rest," Michael suggested, his tone soft and sad.

A small frown formed on her face, but Clara stood up nonetheless. She had been smothering him with her presence all day. He deserved some alone time to be with his thoughts, just as she agreed that she did need a break.

He watched as Clara nodded slowly and walked out. Looking back down at the photo in his hand, he took a deep breath. Michael walked to his trunk and grabbed some of the shirts that Clara had folded. Unfolding them, he wrapped the frame in them and set it down in the trunk. He closed the lid and locked the latches.

His arm hung at his side as he looked at the now empty room that he had called him for the last few months. There were so many things weighing on his mind. He couldn't remember a more dramatic time in his life than when Griffin had killed their father. He often wondered how it was that Clara and Roman were able to get through all of that and still keep their family somewhat functioning.

"Hey, Mikey?" a voice called from the doorway.

Michael looked up slowly to the voice.

George was beaming at him as he held a vial in his hands.

"Wanna help me with something?"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The group sat down for lunch in near silence. Molly was still somewhat on edge about the twins leaving, especially now that the farewells had begun. First Roman, then Ginny and Michael, then the twins – she didn't know what she'd do if any of them were to get hurt.

Her feelings seemed to be translated into the meal, its usual luster lacking as everyone dug in.

Clara ate another bite of her sandwich as she looked from face to face. Ginny, Fred, Arthur, and Molly's expressions were indifferent. Their minds all seemed to be elsewhere.

But George and Michael…

Their faces exhibited a mischief that Clara hadn't seen in quite some time.

"And what are you two up to?" Clara asked them, breaking the silence.

"Nothing," George quickly answered. "Nothing at all."

Clara raised an eyebrow as she reached for her cup and took a sip. "I know my brother. He only gets that face when he's going to prank me."

Michael's giggles were almost uncontained at this point. He and George's faces held grins bigger than Clara had ever seen. As she looked around the table, she saw Fred's eyes light up as a small smile started to grow.

Her eyes flicked to Ginny who was trying to stifle a laugh.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing, Clara," Michael laughed. At this point he couldn't keep it together. He started to laugh to the point of tears, George and Fred joining in on the mayhem.

Clara looked at Molly, desperate for answers. To her surprise, Molly also had a smile on her face.

Molly reached to a shelf above her to grab a silver colored tray and held it up for Clara to see.

Her mouth dropped as her head immediately snapped to her brother and George. "I'm gonna get you lot!"

Immediately she bolted out of her chair and around the table, George and Michael quick to run out of the kitchen and outside into the yard.

Clara's hair had changed from its usual brunette to a multicolored rainbow. The colors would constantly change from rainbow hues to solid colors, and it only seemed to get worse the more agitated she got.

"Nice hair, Clara!" George called out.

"You're so rotten!" Clara retorted, pulling out her wand. With a quick wave to George and Michael, Clara now found herself roaring with laughter.

"Nice try sis, you didn't do anything," Michael smartly commented, walking back over to her while catching his breath. "Your charm failed."

"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey," Fred chided, patting him on the back. "Your sister has been working at the shop – with George and I – for a year. Do you think that she'd ever cast a charm that didn't work?"

"Michael," George called out in surprise.

Michael turned around to see George pointing directly at him. Michael returned the gesture, his eyes wide.

They were both bald.

Clara couldn't contain herself. She and Ginny were both nearly on the ground from laughing so hard.

"Clara!" Michael shouted. "Change it back! Change it back!"

"Are you mad?" Clara asked. "Until you and George fix my hair, you two are remaining bald. Even if that means George fixes it after you leave for school."

Michael's jaw dropped. "You wouldn't."

Clara raised her eyebrows with a smirk, folding her arms as she stood in front of her brother. "I would."

Michael turned to George with a frantic look on his face.

"I dunno, Mikey. I'm kind of digging this new look," George teased with his signature Weasley grin as he ran his fingers across his scalp. "Much less maintenance in the morning."

Michael turned to Fred, his face desperate for help.

Fred shrugged. "I don't know what George used, so I can't help come up with an antidote."

"Oh don't worry, Mikey," George comforted, an arm now around his shoulders. "I'll give your sister the antidote before you leave."

"I hope so…" Michael ran his hand over his scalp, already missing the messy mop of hair he had only a few minutes prior.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

That night after dinner, Clara had started to help Fred and George pack things for their journey. As much as George didn't want to, Clara insisted that they leave all of their pranking products behind.

"But what if we need them for a good laugh?" George argued.

"Then you two can turn each other bald all day long for all I care," Clara retorted, her hair still changing through all the colors of the rainbow as she brewed another healing potion.

"You two are ridiculous," Fred laughed. He excused himself momentarily to talk to Molly downstairs.

Clara mixed a few more ingredients into her cauldron while George put an extension charm on the bag he was holding.

"Georgie?"

"Yes, Rainbow Princess?" he answered.

Clara ignored the name. "Do you think you and Fred are going to be okay? You know…with the Death Eaters and everything…"

George paused what he was doing and looked at Clara carefully. "Why do you ask?"

She shot him a look that told him she shouldn't have to explain.

He smiled as he walked over to her. He put an arm around her shoulders in a brief hug. "We will definitely be okay. I'll be sure to bring him home in one piece to you. And I'll make sure he doesn't run off with some lass on our travels."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I am not only worried about him, you know," Clara chuckled, nudging George with her elbow.

He gasped. "I'm touched. She cares about me!"

Clara let out more of a laugh as she took her ladle out of the cauldron. "You're a prat."

"Ah-ah-ah. A bald prat," George corrected.

"A prat nonetheless," Clara stated with a smile.

George brought some vials over to her so that she could start to fill them. He had asked if she could make them several things: antidotes for poisoning, quick remedies for wounds, dittany – Clara had also made a few other things as precautions. He corked each one as Clara poured the potion inside.

"You don't have to worry, Clara," George reassured, his tone more serious this time.

Clara looked at him, her eyes brimming with fear and uncertainty.

"You'll be able to keep up with us as often as we put the radio station up. And we'll find another ways to let you know we're alright."

She nodded, quickly bringing George into an embrace.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred jogged downstairs to see his mother putting the last of the dishes into the sink to be washed. She had already used a charm to make the scrub brush wash them.

As she finished wiping down the counter, she turned and saw her son standing in the entryway. "What do you need dear?"

"Mum…I…" Fred was at a loss for words. He had wanted to apologize for the sudden decision to leave. It was eating him up that he wasn't doing it at all. She was his mother – he knew that she was only worried for their safety.

As if reading his mind, she gestured to the kitchen table. "Sit." Molly turned to grab two mugs and waved her wand. The cups filled with a brown liquid, its chocolatey aroma wafting to Fred's nose. She set the mugs down, one for her and one for Fred, and sat next to her son.

Fred placed his hands around the mug and stared at it for a few moments. He was slouched over, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. Looking up at his mum, he could tell that she was feeling the same way.

"It's alright," Molly finally admitted, sipping from her cup. "I know…I know you and George need to do this."

He nodded as he sighed. "We didn't mean to be so brash about it. It really isn't George's fault, if I'm honest."

"You were always the instigator," Molly chuckled.

Fred cracked a small smile. "We'll be safe."

She nodded. "I know you will."

"And we'll be sure to broadcast as often as we can."

"I know."

"And we'll even send patronuses when we can. You know, just in case."

Molly reached out and put her hand on Fred's. "I know."

He looked down at it briefly before bringing his gaze up to his mother's.

"And Clara will be safe with us. That I can promise you."

Fred nodded as he took another deep breath. "Mum…you know the last time this all happened, and everyone was getting married left and right–"

"Everyone was afraid," Molly started. "We didn't know what was going to happen."

"How did you and Dad know?"

Molly smiled as she gazed down at her cocoa. Her cheeks had a new rosey color, her shoulders relaxed. "Your father and I had been together for quite some time already. But just like everyone else, we didn't want to leave things to chance. We didn't know if we'd make it through the war."

"And do you think, given the circumstances, that it would be feasible to have that mentality now?"

"Frederick Weasley, don't base your decisions off of what your father and I did. I didn't even approve of Bill of Fleur's rushed decision to get married."

"But that's because you didn't like Fleur."

"That's beside the point."

"But this is different."

Molly gave her son a stern look which made him stop answering back to her.

"Clara is an amazing girl, Fred. There's no doubt about it. But even with the circumstances, I wouldn't rush into anything. You can't go into all of this thinking you're going to die."

Fred nodded slowly as he sipped his cocoa.

"Just do what you think feels right. She'll be here when you get back."

Fred flashed a small smile at his mother as they enjoyed the rest of their cocoa together.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Clara was up bright and early the next morning. She figured it was going to be a struggle to get Michael out of bed for the day. The Hogwarts Express was set to leave in two hours.

Two hours.

She pulled on a t-shirt and jeans before making her way downstairs. To her surprise, Michael was sitting in the parlor, already in his clothes and ready for the day.

"You're ready early," she commented as she walked down the rest of the stairs.

"Not having hair makes it easier to get ready in the morning. George was right," Michael admitted with a half-smile. "Mrs. Weasley told me that I could take off the sling today as well." Michael lifted his newly freed arm to show its mobility.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

"Never better," he replied.

Clara walked to the couch and sat next to Michael. She knew that she wouldn't be going with him to the platform that morning. It had been decided that Arthur and George were going to see Ginny and Michael off while Molly, Clara, and Fred stayed home.

The silence between the siblings was deafening.

"Clara?" Michael asked finally, his voice meek.

"Yes, Mikey?"

"Do…do you think that I'll be okay? You think we'll make it out of all this alive?"

Clara swallowed hard. She nodded as she replied, "Dad taught us how to be strong and how to survive. We can make it through anything."

"Dad taught you and Roman how to survive," Michael corrected.

"And we taught you," Clara countered, wrapping her arm around Michael's shoulders.

"Thank you."

Clara kissed the top of Michael's bald head as she let a smile escape from her mouth. "I'll always be with you."

He nodded as he grabbed Clara's hand with his own, squeezing it briefly.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The group stood outside after breakfast, Molly almost refusing to let Ginny out of her embrace as Arthur and George looked on.

Clara could hear Molly reminding Ginny about all of the things she needed to do and not do, how to contact them, and that she would be safe.

Clara looked up at Michael, pulling out her wand. "Alright you." She waved it, Michael and George's hair growing back to their normal states. "All better?"

Michael shook his head to tousle his hair. "Much."

She smiled. "Alright. Now you have everything, right? Books? Your owl? Extra knickers?"

Michael rolled his eyes as he brought his sister into a tight embrace. "You're ridiculous, you know that."

"What're you gonna do with me?"

She could hear Michael stifle out a laugh, but in between she could hear him sniffling.

"If you need me, you know how to get in touch. I love you, Mikey."

"I love you too, Clara."


	21. Chapter 21

Clara had been quiet all day once Michael and Ginny had left the house. She had this nagging feeling that no matter what kinds of scenarios played in her head about how Michael's school year would be, they would be nothing compared to the real thing. She was scared. She was worried. And now that Roman had to go fight his own battles already in Romania, she was even more on edge.

She was sitting in her room flipping through a book that Hermione had given her to read. It was a collection of muggle fairy tales, similar to the stories her father would read from _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. There were stories of princesses being saved, knights fighting off dragons, and true love. The only thing that Clara didn't enjoy about the stories was that it seemed like magic was always used by the evil characters.

Looking up, she saw that the sun was already starting to set for that day. She hadn't even remembered eating lunch.

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, tossing her book on a table near her bed.

"Good evening, madam," George greeted, standing in the doorway. He was standing up straight, dressed in his usual work suit, a smirk on his face. "A Mr. Frederick Weasley requests your presence at dinner this evening. 7 o'clock sharp."

Clara felt the corners of her mouth pull up into a smile as she stood up. "And what should I wear to this dinner?"

"He requested your finest attire." As he looked over Clara's features, his mouth formed a small 'o'. He reached into his pocket and tossed Clara a small vial. "He also requested that your hair...not be a rainbow."

She laughed as she took in the antidote. "Can you let Mr. Weasley know that I shall be in attendance this evening." She curtsied to George. "Thank you, good sir."

He half bowed with a grin as he pulled the door shut.

Taking a deep breath, Clara looked at her trunk across the room. It looked as if it had thrown up her clothes on the floor. She started to throw clothes all over the place as she looked for something decent to wear.

All the while, she never thought of her brothers. She didn't think of the craziness that lay just outside the Burrow's secure doors. She never thought about the what ifs of Fred and George's plans.

The only thing that mattered was the time she was going to spend with Fred.

About half an hour later, and one scattered trunk later, Clara heard another knock at the door.

She walked over and opened it to be greeted by Molly.

"Hello, dearie," she greeted. She walked past Clara holding a dress. "Let's get you fitted."

"Mrs. Weasley…how did you–where did this–when did you–"

"Never you mind. Now come on, arms up. I want to make sure this fits you."

Clara held up her arms as instructed as Molly placed the dress on her bed, then wrapped the measuring tape around her waist, chest, and hips.

"It might be a little loose, but it'll let you breathe," Molly informed with a smile. "Fred asked if you could wear this if you didn't have anything better."

Molly held up the dress once more for Clara to inspect. It was a simple black dress with no sleeves and a round collar near her neck. From the top of her chest to the collar, there was a sheer fabric that allowed her skin to peek through. The dress reached the floor, but had a slit near her right leg that would reach her mid-thigh when she wore it.

"It's nothing special, but you can always dress it up a bit," Molly added.

"It's wonderful, Mrs. Weasley." Clara smile appreciatively as she hugged Molly in thanks.

Molly stepped back and returned Clara's smile. "I'll leave you to it then."

Clara nodded as she took the dress from Molly before Molly disappeared downstairs.

She took a deep breath. Waving her wand to clean up the mess in her room, Clara guessed she didn’t have much other choice than to start getting ready.

She walked down the hall to shower, the hot water releasing the tensions that she had been harboring all day. It felt nice to relax for the time being.

As she waved her wand to dry and style her hair, she noticed something. Although her hair was back to its usual brunette state, she couldn't help but notice that there was a streak near the top of her head to the left that was a deep red. It streaked all the way through to the ends. Somehow, George's antidote–intentionally or not–had allowed for her original hair color to return.

She touched it in surprise, unsure of the feelings she held when she saw it.

Ignoring it for the time being, she made her way down the hall and proceeded to finish getting ready for the evening.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

A firm knock came at a quarter to seven.

"Come in!" Clara called. She was checking herself over once more in her mirror as she put on the necklace Fred had given her. The badger was the most excited it had been in weeks, running all around the chain and making it somewhat hard for Clara to put on.

Arthur opened the door and stood smiling to himself. "You look beautiful, m'lady."

Clara chuckled. Arthur had a suit jacket on as well as a fancy looking cap.

"May I assist you?" he asked.

Clara looked down at her necklace and held it out to Arthur. "This badger is much too excited."

He laughed as he stood behind Clara.

She watched as the necklace moved in front of her face, then rested around her neck.

After securing it, Arthur tapped Clara on the shoulder. "Shall I take you to dinner?"

She smiled as Arthur held out his arm for her. "I'd be honored."

The two walked out of her room, down the hall, then down the stairs. Arthur was sure to help her down the stairs carefully so that Clara didn't trip in her high heels on the dress.

As they reached the bottom, they were greeted by George.

"Madam, so good to see you once again," he played, holding out his arm. "I can take it from here, Mr. Weasley."

"Perfect, Mr. Weasley," Arthur thanked.

Clara couldn't help but giggle at the ridiculousness of this family that she loved so much.

Arthur tipped his cap to her as he returned upstairs, he and Molly eating their dinner in their room.

George walked Clara to the dining room table that was now covered in a deep red table cloth, two candles sitting in the middle of it. A feast sat before Clara's eyes. A beautifully roasted chicken sat in a pan flanked by mashed potatoes whose garlic smell permeated her senses. A colorful plate of mixed vegetables sat freshly steamed next to a bottle of wine.

Fred stood on the other side of the table, staring into space as he fidgeted with his hands. He was wearing a black suit jacket with a white collared shirt underneath, surprisingly not wearing a tie. He had black slacks on along with shiny dress shoes. Clara couldn't think of a time where she had seen him dress so sharply.

"Ahem," George announced.

Fred's attention snapped up, his eyebrows lifting as a smile grew on his face.

Clara left her hair down, waves cascading down past her shoulders. Her face looked perfect, her make up complimenting the brown eyes that Fred could stare into for hours. Her lips were graced with a deep maroon color lipstick as Clara's natural blush started to dust her cheeks. His eyes wandered up and down, admiring the dress his mother had made. It hugged Clara in all the right places, Fred tugging at his collar as he cleared his throat.

"Mr. Weasley, a Miss Caxton has arrived for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Fred thanked. He walked around the table and pulled out the chair for Clara, George helping her sit in it.

Fred took the seat opposite of her while George proceeded to carve the chicken to the couple at the table. He placed it perfectly on each plate, then placed the sides artistically around it while Fred opened the bottle of wine that Clara had spotted when they walked in.

Once George finished serving them, he gave a half bow once more then left the room.

"Dig in," Fred instructed, waving towards Clara's plate. "Took me all afternoon to make this."

"You made this?" Clara asked questioningly.

"Well, I had some help from mum," Fred admitted, starting to cut into his chicken.

Clara nodded as she took a bite. She had to admit that it was delicious. The meal reminded her of when Fred and George would invite her up to their flat after work some nights. They had always wanted to make it up to her when she'd cook for them. The mashed potatoes had always been her favorite thing they'd make, Clara noting that the bowl that sat in front of her was bigger than usual.

"I made extra for you," Fred added, seeing where Clara's gaze had fallen.

"You know me too well," Clara chuckled.

Fred paused with a smirk as he gazed across the table to the girl that was illuminated by the candlelight. "Not yet."

Clara's blush seemed to make her face turn ten shades pinker as she looked down at her food. "So what is all this for?"

Fred shrugged. "This is our first date."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

"Why not?" Fred laughed. "I can't think of a better time."

Clara nodded. "I suppose so."

The two ate in silence for some time, stealing glances at each other and looking away with a blush when they were caught.

Clara's laugh broke the silence, Fred admiring the way her smile lit up her face. Her eyes seemed to have a new life to them when she laughed, which is why he tried to so hard to make her do it when she worked at the shop.

The way he admired her made her heart dance in her chest. There hadn't been a time that Clara could remember that Fred looked that way at anything. She knew that the shop was his passion. When he'd look around when they opened in the morning, that look almost rivaled the one she saw on his face now.

"You have definitely impressed me, Freddie."

"I'm glad. And the night isn't even over yet."

With a wave of his wand, the dishes and food disappeared from the table. To Clara's surprise, it was replaced by an apple pie.

"Mr. Weasley made apple pie?" she questioned with a bright grin.

"I attempted it. Don't judge it too harshly," he asked.

"I dunno," Clara teased, grabbing the knife to cut it. "I've got some pretty high pie standards."

He rolled his eyes as he held out a plate. "Just serve the pie."

She giggled as she placed two slices on two plates. As she took a bite, she shot a look at Fred. "Fred, why were you hiding your baking excellence from me all year?"

He shrugged. "You never asked for help."

They finished eating their pie as they laughed about things from that year, including what would happen to the shop now that they had so many new ideas from Michael.

With another wave of his wand at the end of their meal, everything disappeared off of the table. Fred walked around and held his hand out to Clara. "Madam."

She took it gladly, following Fred into the parlor that was now void of the large sofas and coffee table. With another wave of his wand, an old violin that was sitting on the mantle picked itself up. It started to play a slow tune, each beautiful note floating towards the couple who now stood in the middle of the room.

"May I have this dance?"

Clara placed her hands on Fred's shoulders in acceptance as his hands sat on her hips. They moved in time with the music, their gazes never leaving each other's.

"You never cease to amaze me, Fred Weasley."

"I hope I can keep it up," Fred joked.

The more they danced, the slower the music played. Eventually the two found themselves swaying back and forth, Clara's head resting beneath Fred's chin as the space between them closed. Fred's hands sat on her lower back as her hands laced themselves behind his neck.

She closed her eyes as she savored the moment. Everything – at least in that room – was perfect.

The music soon ended, Fred suddenly sweeping Clara off of her feet, now carrying her bridal style.

"Shall I take you up to your room?" he asked.

"And what are your intentions when we get there?" she asked, an eyebrow raised as she felt herself being moved towards the stair case.

"Nothing you'll regret." Fred kissed Clara on the cheek before ascending the stairs to Clara's bedroom.

When they reached their destination, Fred set Clara down and they both walked in. He closed the door behind them. Turning around once more, he saw Clara standing near the window looking up at the stars. He walked over and stood behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist.

"I can't thank you enough, Freddie," Clara started, her hands resting on his. "Tonight was– is–the most perfect night that I can remember."

He smiled as he brought his head down into the crook of her neck, kissing it softly. "And it won't be the last, I can promise you that."

He could hear Clara chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, I can't be the only one thinking it."

"Thinking what?"

Clara pulled away and turned around to face Fred, her back leaning against the wall next to the window. "This may very well be the last perfect night we do get."

Fred shook his head. "You can't think like that."

Clara looked down. "Don't you ever think, though, that this could be it? Times like these were the very ones that made our own parents wed in a rush, made people lose the ones they loved before they could say or do the things they really wanted to do…have families…grow old together."

He placed his hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. He paused as he made sure his next words were exactly what he wanted to say. "Yes, I do think sometimes that maybe this night could be it. But more often than not, I believe that this is just the first of many amazing times we will spend together. Because…yes, I do want to marry you. I do want to have a family with you. I do want to grow old together. It's those times that I want that make me push away all the doubt. They make me want to join the fight so that we can enjoy those times much sooner and not have to worry."

Clara smirked as she brought her arms up to Fred's shoulders, bringing him in closer to her. "So…you want to marry me, huh?" she asked, trying to lighten up the situation.

"Of course I do," Fred admitted as his hands resumed their position on her hips. "I've practically been in love with you for most of the year…"

Clara paused as she watched Fred's face. He avoided her gaze as an usually large amount of blush ran across his cheeks. His usual armor of confidence seemed dented, as if Clara had found one of his weak spots.

When he finally did make eye contact with her once more, Clara confessed, "You know…the other night I might have told you a little white lie…I don't exactly like you."

Fred's now showed some confusion, his eyes more honed in than before.

"…I love you, Fred Weasley."

"And I love you, Clarissa Caxton." He immediately kissed her once again, both their eyes closing as they reveled in the moment. There was so much more passion, more emotion, and more care than either of them had remembered their first kiss having.

Continuing their kiss, Fred slowly pulled Clara towards her bed. He sat down, breaking the kiss, as he stared up to the woman who stood before him. The moonlight casted shadows on her face making her seem all the more mysterious.

Clara couldn't wipe the smile off of her face as she looked down at Fred. She ran her fingers through his hair, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the sensation.

"That's dangerous you know," he informed, his voice lower than normal.

"And why's that?" Clara asked.

"That may lead to something more…involved," Fred replied, his right hand running up Clara's leg within the slit of her dress. He winked at her playfully as she chuckled.

"Now that you're going to have to wait for," she replied, taking a seat next to Fred. Her heart was racing much harder than it had earlier, the possibilities of what the night could lead to running through her head.

He nodded, taking a deep breath to settle himself. "I don't mind."

She smiled at him, taking his face in her hands so that she could kiss him again.

"I love you, Fred Weasley," she repeated again between kisses. The words were like a fine wine as they passed through her lips.

"I love you, Clarissa Caxton."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The twins stood in front of the Burrow, just as everyone before them had done over the past few days, as they checked to make sure they had everything they needed before they left.

Molly was trying her hardest to keep herself together before they left, but tears were already escaping her eyes. Arthur's mouth was a hard line as he stood with his arm around his wife.

Clara stood a little ways back, wanting to give the Weasleys their time to say goodbye to one another.

"Now you make sure that we hear from you as often as we can," Molly said to her two boys, her hands resting on each of their cheeks. "And keep each other safe. That's an order."

"Yes, mum," they replied in unison. Each of them leaned down to give her a hug, then moved to their father to give him a tight embrace as well. There wasn't much of an exchange of words, the hug meant to convey those unspoken feelings.

George walked over to Clara first, a large grin still on his face. "I dunno what you're gonna do here, locked away with Mum and Dad."

"I'll keep myself busy," Clara informed with a smirk. She reached up to give George a hug.

He lifted her off the ground during their embrace.

"Take care," she whispered to him.

"I'll be fine," he answered, setting his best friend back on the ground. "And I'll keep him safe as well."

Clara smiled in appreciation as she wiped a few tears from her eyes.

Fred walked over and stood next to his brother, George taking the hint and walking back to his parents.

Clara wasted no time in bringing Fred into her arms, her grip tight as she hid her face from the world. She buried her face in his neck, her tears starting to flow more freely. "You best make it home safely, Fred Weasley."

"Or else what?" He teased.

"Or I'll–I'll–"

"Actually, don't finish that," Fred interrupted. He pulled a little ways away so that he could look at Clara. "There's no way I'm not coming back home to you."


	22. Chapter 22

_"Word on the street is that there are more and more witches and wizards taking care of their muggle neighbors, isn't that right Rapier?"_

_"Right you are, River. Which is terrific considering that muggles are being affected by all that's been happening since You-Know-Who's return. To all you listening, take some time to send some protective charms your muggle neighbor's or friend's way. You could save their life."_

_"Alright, well that ends another episode of_ Potterwatch. _We'll try to broadcast as soon as we can, but until then, the next password will be_ Prongs."

_"Good night and good luck."_

Arthur turned off the radio and sat in his chair, staring off into space.

Molly and Clara sat on the couch next to him. Molly was knitting another sweater while Clara played with the necklace Fred had given her. It had been months since everyone had left the Burrow, the Order feeling the strain of not being able to help Harry, Ron, and Hermione weigh down on them more and more. Arthur had continued to go to the Ministry for work as needed, mentioning that there had been an incident where Harry had been spotted a few months back, while Molly and Clara tended to things at home.

It was a good time for them to bond and lean on each other while their loved ones were carrying out their respective responsibilities. Needless to say, though, that no matter how much they tried to keep each other in high spirits things were getting gloomier by the day. With the list of witches and wizards that the twins would read over the airwaves every broadcast, Molly, Arthur, and Clara prayed they wouldn't hear any familiar names.

The broadcast was a success so far. Lee's codename was "River" and Fred's was "Rapier". They occasionally had guests on the show like Kingsley or Remus. It was a great source of information considering the fact that the Ministry wasn't as reliable as it used to be. Lee and the twins gave the wizarding community the truth they needed to hear as well as ways to protect themselves and those around them. Fred had mentioned on multiple broadcasts that now wasn't a time to be divided by blood or magical ability, but a time to unite and defeat this monstrosity that was plaguing everyone's lives.

Clara always felt proud when she'd hear Fred talk like that. It showed how brave and amazing he really was, and she admired that so much. The only thing she wished she could change was not being able to see him. It had been such a long time, and only once while he and George had been gone had he sent his patronus. It uttered only six words: "I miss you. I love you."

She couldn't blame him, though. With the kind of work that they were doing, it was only natural to have to keep moving, keep aware of what was going on, and keep themselves safe. Sending patronuses may not be the safest thing to do, but at least she knew that they were still okay.

Roman hadn't gotten in touch with her for quite some time either. He had sent two patronuses to keep her abreast on the changes that were taking place, the second one sounding much worse than the first. He and Charlie had sent one together for her and the Weasleys to hear. It sounded like the dragons were doing okay and that things were under control, but in the second one Roman sounded almost in a panic. He and Charlie were on the run after releasing many of the dragons back into places they knew the Death Eaters wouldn't dare venture. Because of that, though, they were being hunted.

Again, their lack of sending a message was a method to keep safe, and Clara understood that.

It didn't make her worry any less.

Michael was another one that Clara worried about almost constantly. She had received no letter, no patronus, no message of any kind to tell her what life within the Hogwarts walls had become. Ginny hadn't sent anything to Molly or Arthur either, setting the whole house further on edge with each passing day.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

He stumbled into the Room of Requirement with his black cloak draped over his arm. As soon as the door closed behind him, he leaned against it. He could feel the blood dripping from his mouth.

From a cut on the side of his eye.

From the side of his neck.

With his eyes closed, he could hear someone walking over to him quickly. Their hand was gentle as they held one of his shoulders.

"This way, Mikey," he heard Ginny coax. "We'll get you cleaned up."

As he stood up straight, he opened his eyes and looked into Ginny's weary ones. "There should be at least three more coming in."

"What happened this time?"

"Word gets around to Death Eaters about children who betray their Death Eater family members."

Ginny sighed as she dipped a rag into a bowl of water and dabbed it gently onto Michael's face.

"What did they do to you?"

"The others got the usual. They wanted to be more physical with me this time."

Ginny glanced down at Michael's no longer clean, white shirt. She saw the dirt stains near his abdomen and around his back.

With a wave of her wand, Michael instantly felt a cooling sensation around his midsection which allowed him to release a sigh of comfort. His head was still pounding, but at least the bruising on his body wouldn't be nearly as bad.

"Doin' alright?" Neville asked as he looked over Michael's fresh wounds.

"I feel like the most beautiful witch in all the land," Michael replied with a smirk.

Neville smiled as he shook his head. "Good. We're gonna need your help later teaching some of the second years a few defensive spells if you're up to it."

Michael nodded. "Are you and Seamus gonna go see Aberforth tomorrow?"

Neville nodded. "He thinks it's nearly time."

Michael nodded once more before Neville walked around the room once more.

"You think they'll be alright?" Ginny asked him, placing the rag back into the bowl.

"Harry, Ron, and Hermione?"

Ginny nodded. "And everyone else."

Michael sat for a moment, brows furrowing as he thought back to the beginning of the term when he had gotten the second patronus from his brother. Who knows where he and Charlie were at now. He was surprised that the patronus even made it to school grounds.

His mind drifted to Clara next. No word from her all year, but then again he hadn't had a chance to talk to her either. His gut told him that she knew better than to try and get in contact with him now, especially with the school being under new management.

But did she know? Did she and the Weasleys know what was happening on Hogwarts? What was _really_ happening?

"I think they're making it by, just as we are," Michael replied as he placed a reassuring hand on Ginny's shoulder. "And I feel like we'll be seeing them soon enough."

Ginny let a small smile escape her lips as she ruffled Michael's hair. She walked over to a few other students that had just arrived, almost in the same condition that Michael had been in.

He looked around the room at all of the solemn faces. It was the first time in all the years he had been at Hogwarts that he had seen a common room actually be a common room.

No division of houses. No differences because of year.

Everyone was helping one another as much as they could.

Knowing what was to come, he knew that this was exactly what the world needed.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Roman and Charlie trudged a few more yards through the humid forest. Bugs attacked their faces left and right, their packs weighing heavier and heavier with each step they took. Sweat beaded and ran down their faces faster than raindrops on a window during heavy rain.

It was quiet though. It was the most quiet it had been in many weeks.

After apparating to several different places on their quest to lose the Death Eaters, the duo were pretty sure that this was it. They had finally lost them and were able to focus on getting back into contact with the Order.

Charlie had taken them to this forest. It was a ways off from where he had wanted to go, admittedly, but at least they were going to be in contact with people soon.

That was five days prior.

The two stopped at a small stream and took a break, Roman immediately dunking his head in the water to cool off.

"This place is ridiculous."

"We're nearly out," Charlie reassured. "Maybe another mile or so and we'll hit the beach."

"Hope you brought your swim trunks," Roman teased. "Reckon you need a tan."

Charlie laughed. "If anyone wants to admire my paleness, that would definitely be the time to do it."

Roman flashed a smile as he pushed his hair back and out of his eyes.

"You heard from Clara or Michael?"

He shook his head. "I sent them patronuses. Don't know what's wrong or why they're not replying." He looked around in the forest with a disgruntled look. "Dunno, Charlie. Something just doesn't feel right."

Charlie nodded. "I worry a lot about Ron. And Ginny. And the twins too."

"You've got a lot of siblings to worry about."

Charlie raised his eyebrows in agreement. "Remind me not to have so many children."

"Hey, whatever happens, happens," Roman teased.

A snapping branch was what caught Roman's attention first.

His head whipped up in the noise's directing, his eyes narrowing. He and Charlie became so quiet, you couldn't even hear them breathe. The noises of the forest carried on: the water rushing from the stream, the rustling of the leaves high above them, the occasional bird flying through.

Without warning, Roman whipped around and held his wand up in defense. He produced a counter curse in time to see Griffin standing a few yards away. His toothy grin sent chills down Roman's spine as he started to walk towards him and Charlie.

"Time to go?" Charlie asked, wand out as his eyes locked onto Griffin.

"Time to go," Roman confirmed.

And they disappeared once more.


	23. Chapter 23

Clara stood in the kitchen rolling out the top crust to the dessert she was making. For the first time in ages, she was making an apple pie. She had used her magic to start dinner for Molly, but she always wanted to make her pies by hand. Her mother had always told her that the secret to making a good pie was to put in the effort. They didn't need magic for _everything_.

Arthur walked through the door and put his hat on a hook near the door. "Good evening."

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Clara greeted, placing the crust on top of her pie. "Mrs. Weasley is hanging laundry I think."

"Smells good in here," he complimented.

"Nearly finished. I have a few sides ready to set on the table if you'd like to help."

Arthur obliged. He set out the dishes on the table as Clara placed her pie in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. Molly walked into the kitchen and kissed Arthur hello.

"It looks wonderful, darling," Molly told Clara, an appreciative smile gracing her face.

Clara smiled in response as she taste tested what she had cooking in a pot on the stove.

All at once, Clara felt a force push her backwards that nearly sent her to the floor. She regained her balance and noted that all of the lights in the house had gone out.

She turned quickly to the Weasleys and found a glowing orb in the center of the room. Everyone's attention was captured.

"Lightning has struck," a voice explained. It sounded like Bill. "Pack up and come as soon as you can."

The orb disappeared nearly as quickly as it had arrived, the lights in the Burrow returning to their normal state.

Each person in the room looked at one another, their chests heaving up and down in surprise and newfound fear.

"Right," Arthur stated, breaking the silence. "I suppose it's time."

"Time…" Molly repeated. "I didn't think it'd happen. Not again…"

Clara walked over and squeezed Molly's hand. "We'll be alright. We need to finish this once and for all."

Molly looked into Clara's encouraging eyes as tears brimmed her own. She paced a hand on Clara's cheek as she let a smirk slip out. "Right, dear."

Clara smirked back as she gave Molly's hand one final squeeze. "I'll put all of this away. If you could, I have a change of clothes in a bag just inside my room door."

Molly nodded as she walked upstairs to get her own things as well as Clara's.

Clara proceeded to put some food into containers for them to eat once they got to their destination. All the while, her heart had begun to race faster and faster. It was hard to not think about what was going to happen in the next day or so. The phrase "lighting has struck" was meant to indicate that Harry had finally made it to Hogwarts, which meant that the war was finally upon them.

Her hands had started to tremble, Clara resting them on the edges of the sink as she let her head hang down. All these months away from her family and Fred had taken a drastic mental toll on her. To not know if anyone was safe scared her immensely. She didn't think she'd be able to fight if anyone she cared about was killed.

But maybe she just needed that fire to push harder and fight with more courage.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Walking through the newly made secret passage, Clara gazed at what the Room of Requirement had become. Seeing so many students with such pale expressions told her that they were nearly as scared as she was.

Molly and Arthur immediately rushed over to Ron who was sitting with Ginny on the opposite side of the room. They hugged their children tightly, soon joined by Bill and Fleur. Most of the Order was also there, Remus and Kingsley talking with some of the students while they all waited for the timing to be just right.

Clara had walked over to Hermione first and hugged her tightly. She received thanks for all of the potions she concocted before being released to see another familiar face.

She watched as Michael and Neville went around checking on the students and offering words of comfort. Her brother had to have grown at least another inch, his messy head of hair still as wild as ever. She noted the new injuries on his face, scared to see the extent of what had happened to him during his school year. Neville had explained how the Carrows chose to deal with students who didn't listen and it made Clara's stomach turn.

"He's a natural isn't he?"

Clara turned sharply and ran for the sound, nearly tackling Roman to the ground.

"When did you get here?" she uttered in almost a whisper.

"Not too long before yourself. Michael's been so busy that he hasn't noticed, though."

"You think I wouldn't notice if you walked into the room?"

Roman and Clara eased their grips to look at Michael who had a smug smirk on his face.

"I know everyone who comes in and out of this castle. Comes with the position."

"Is that what they taught you this year? Snarkiness?" Roman joked as he pulled his brother into the embrace.

"Amongst other things," Michael spoke into Roman's chest. "I'm glad to see you two."

Clara and Roman held their little sibling a little tighter as they shared a moment of calm.

Deep down, Michael had a feeling that both his brother and sister didn't think they'd see each other again. At Hogwarts, they knew that Michael would be safe no matter what. But with Roman running around and Clara trying to defend herself at the Burrow, they had a much higher chance of being killed during the past eight months or so.

"Michael, we need you over here for a second," Seamus called.

Michael pulled away from Roman and Clara. "Duty calls."

Clara nodded as she watched her brother jog to the other side of the room. For a moment, she felt a feeling of pride wash over her. Michael had grown up so much, part of her sad that he had to do it so quickly. But this suited him: being a leader and helping others. His kind heart and his bravery was showing – he was a Gryffindor through and through.

"You been okay?" Roman asked, his gaze matching his sister's as he watched Michael help other students.

"I've been better. You?"

Roman shrugged. "Ran into Griffin a few times–"

"–He'll be here…won't he? And Mum too…"

The two shared a look of concern. Before they could continue, though, their attention was caught by the portrait hole opening once again with a new group of people.

Immediately Clara raced for the opening, seeing her favorite red head step into the room.

Fred dropped his bag as a large smile grew on his face. He gathered Clara in his arms and lifted her off the ground, the two spinning in a circle before he set her back on the floor. Burying his face in Clara's neck, he could feel relief wash over him. She was safe.

"I got worried when we didn't hear from you," Clara mumbled.

"We were on the run for a while. But we're nearly finished."

Clara pulled away and looked up into Fred's eyes. She missed how calm they made her feel, while at the same time making her insides fly around in chaos. His smile made her problems fade away. Memories of their last night together flooded through her mind as she kissed him with as much passion as she could muster.

"Alright, that's enough," Roman teased.

Clara just waved her arm as if to shoo him off as Fred took her face in his hands.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred and George stood outside as they watched the protective barrier form around Hogwarts.

"You okay, Freddie?" George asked.

"Yeah," Fred answered, his gaze still fixed on the dome above their heads.

George nudged him with a smile, trying to coax his brother out of the nervousness that laced his response. "Me too."

Clara walked out and tapped George on the shoulder. "Mind if I talk to your brother for a bit?"

George smirked as he leaned down to give Clara a hug. He then walked inside to talk to his father about what they were up against.

Clara stood next to Fred, following his gaze to the dome. "Rather impressive, isn't it?"

He nodded. "How long do you think it'll last?"

"I bet 45 minutes. Roman thinks it'll be 30 and Mikey thinks an hour."

"Always the optimist, Mikey is," Fred chuckled.

"No idea where he gets it from," Clara laughed.

She felt Fred's arm wrap around her as she turned her body into him. Resting her head on his shoulder, she could sense his uneasiness.

"We'll be okay," she told him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Clara looked up at Fred, finding that his gaze was already on her.

"I know we will."

"And everyone else will be okay as well."

Fred nodded, seeming a little less convinced of the latter.

Clara tip toed to kiss Fred briefly. "So what do you want to do once all this is over and we can enjoy the rest of our lives together?"

Fred looked out over the grounds as he thought about their future. "Well, for one thing, I definitely want to taste your famous apple pie again."

"I thought that after your proved to me you could bake, you would have been baking for Lee and George this whole time."

He shook his head. "Nothing compares to your cooking."

"Well aside from that."

Clara saw a twinkle in Fred's eye as he looked over her features.

"I want to spend another perfect evening with you."

She smiled as he leaned down to kiss her again.

"I want to star gaze with you – make even more constellations to last our lifetimes."

Another kiss.

"I want to wake up with you every single morning."

One more kiss.

"Marry me."

Clara leaned back before Fred swooped in for another kiss. "Are you being serious, Fred Weasley, or are you joking around?"

He laughed. "I would never joke around about something so serious…or would I?"

Fred quickly received a light hit on the shoulder as he and Clara shared a chuckle.

"At least think about it."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Freddie, we haven't even spent any real time as a couple. What if we get a month into this and we start to hate each other?"

Fred let out the heartiest laugh Clara had heard in some time. "And you said I'm the funny one?"

She rolled her eyes with a smirk. "I'm serious Fred!"

He held her closer as he looked deeply into her eyes. "I will never hate you. And I don’t think you'll ever hate me. I'm too cute."

Clara didn't think it was possible for her to give a bigger eye roll. "Fred Weasley, what am I going to do with you?"

"Marry me."

She sighed as she smiled. "Know this Fred Weasley – my answer to you will always be yes. But let's wait until we're not in mortal danger to make these decisions."

"As long as your answer doesn't change, I'm happy."

He leaned down and gave Clara one last passionate kiss. His fingers nestled themselves in Clara's dark hair, her hands running up his back and up to his shoulders. When their lips parted, their foreheads remained together, taking in each other as if it would be the last time.

"I'll see you later," Clara whispered.

"Of course."

In unison, they both said to each other – it hopes that it wouldn't be the last time – "I love you."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Clara jogged downstairs in time to see Roman and Michael talking to each other.

"Good, I thought I would have missed you two." She immediately captured Michael in an embrace. "You be safe."

"If you don't strangle me with your hug first, I'll try to be," Michael joked.

Clara shook her head as she pulled out of the hug and rested her hands on Michael's shoulders. "Look…the young boy's gone."

Michael smiled at his sister. "The old woman is still here."

"I swear you spend way too much time with Fred and George, Mikey."

"Hey it's only fair since you turned me bald."

"You made my hair into a rainbow!"

"What in the hell did I miss after I left?" Roman asked, laughing at his siblings.

Clara shook her head again as she pulled Roman into a hug. "We'll explain once all this is over."

Roman nodded. He kissed Clara on the top of her head before looking down at her. "You keep out of trouble."

"I'll try my best."

Roman turned to Michael, immediately wrapping his arm around his neck and rubbing Michael's head with his fist.

"Let me go!"

"How can you defend yourself if you can't even get out of a noogie?" Roman laughed.

Clara appreciated the two of them for making such a light situation of what was to come.

After Michael got out of Roman's grasp, two shared a handshake followed by a tight embrace. When they pulled away, they locked eyes. Their gazes conveyed so much more than either of them could put into words.

"I'll see you both later," Michael sighed, looking from sibling to sibling.

They nodded.

"I love you both," Clara said.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Clara didn't know how her body was keeping up with the constant spell casting and running that she was doing. She was supposed to be stationed near the astronomy tower, but the plans changed when the dungeons had been overrun and they needed more people throughout the castle.

The number of Death Eaters was overwhelming. There was a pang of anger and sadness that kept nagging at Clara as she watched students fall to the Death Eaters' spells. It wasn't the students' faults – it really wasn't anyone's faults. The situation was just terrible. Now so many families wouldn't get to see their children exit the Hogwarts Express once all of this was over.

" _Confringo!_ " Clara yelled at a Death Eater she saw across the corridor. She didn't stop to see the aftermath, hearing the screams of pain coming from the woman that was trying to attack a group of third years.

"Look, my darling daughter trying to fight for the common good."

Clara puffed imaginary steam out of her nose as she turned to where the voice had come from. "'Darling daughter'?"

"You're right – it didn't sound convincing even to me."

Clara rolled to the right as her mother sent a curse in her direction.

"Too scared to fight your mother?" she heard Ms. Caxton call out.

Clara didn't want to respond. She didn't feel like her mother deserved a response. She defended herself against another attack before standing up once again.

"That's fine. Don’t speak. We both know I'll kill you now. I'm quite sure Griffin is taking care of Roman. Then there'll be no one left to defend little Mikey."

"Don't – You – Dare."

Her mother bore a toothy grin that sent chills down Clara' spine. It told her that her mother wouldn't hesitate to kill her baby. She wouldn't hesitate to spill the blood of the son she had cherished most.

The rest was a blur. Clara and her mother were sending curse after curse to one another. They danced around the room as sparks flew from their wands. Her mother seemed to be enjoying every moment, her laugh echoing through Clara's head.

"You're weak! Just give up already!"

Ms. Caxton cackled to herself, but suddenly felt her body grow rigid. She looked around and was confused as she fell forward onto the floor. A foot kicked her over so that she was now facing the ceiling as well as the culprit that had attacked her.

"I'm not weak," Clara hissed. "I am my father's daughter."

With one last curse, Clara stared her mother in the eyes until she was sure the life had left them. It would, to this day, be the darkest moment that Clara could remember putting herself in. Not many people could say that they murdered their mother, and she hoped that no one else ever would.

At least she knew that her brothers would be safe from whatever tortures her mother would have wanted to put them through.

Clara collected her mind as she made her way into the main hall. As she took inventory of who was there, she was relieved to see Fred and George with Percy. They were attacking a few Death Eaters and had just sent their final spells. For the first time, she saw the twins being civil with Percy, smiles on everyone's faces.

She caught Fred's eye when she arrived, his smile only getting brighter. He started to jog towards her, but suddenly things changed.

" _FRED!_ " a loud voice boomed.

Before Clara knew what had happened, she felt herself being knocked back a few feet to the ground. Her head pounded as pieces of debris flew past her face. She could feel the blood dripping down as deep breaths filled her lungs. Adrenaline raced through her veins. Attempting to sit up only made her head hurt more.

"ROCKWOOD!" she heard another man yell. This time it sounded like Percy.

As she gained her bearings, she saw that a large part of the hall had been destroyed. Marble and stone were strewn everywhere, adults and students helping each other up from positions similar to Clara's. When she looked around, her heart dropped.

Fred. Where was Fred?


	24. Chapter 24

Roman shut his eyes tight as he resisted the strong thumping in his head. He tried to steady his breathing as adrenaline pumped through his veins. A few pieces of debris were hitting his back, his body aching from the blast.

Beneath him he could see a distinct head of red hair. Roman couldn't tell if he was okay, let alone if he was even breathing. Shouts were coming from all around him as people checked for survivors of the explosion.

"ROCKWOOD!" he heard someone yell, quick footsteps following and fading into the distance.

He groaned as he tried to prop himself up. "Fred? Fred, you alright?"

No response.

Roman quickly felt hands on either side of him that pulled him to his feet. His muscles felt tense and his back ached from the impact.

George, check on Fred," his sister's voice ordered. "Roman, what the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wanted to save Fred's life." He looked down at his sister who had her hands on his face, quickly moving them along his torso and arms – checking every inch of his being for injuries. She paused for a moment when he uttered his explanation, her eyes glancing quickly past him as George tried to wake his brother.

"Thank you," she told Roman. She looked him over once again, relieved that there seemed to only be a few scratches and bruises on him. "You look alright."

He looked at his sister, blood dripping down the side of her face and her rosy cheeks out in full force. Her eyes were fierce and determined, a look he was getting more and more used to now that she was growing up. In those moments, he could see a reflection of their father just as he had seen that same reflection in Michael.

"What about Fred?" Roman asked, his face flashing with concern.

Clara's jaw clenched as she pushed past him and joined George in his efforts. Fred's face sported a few new cuts and dirt stains, his clothes covered in dust from the explosion of marble around them.

"Fred?" she called to him.

She pushed two fingers onto the side of his neck.

His pulse was faint, but it was there.

"Fred? Can you hear me?"

She tried to shake him awake. She conjured up water and tried to wake him with that. She even tried to kiss him awake.

But nothing.

"Dammit, isn't there any way to wake him?"

She watched as a small smile curled up on Fred's face, her heart immediately fluttering with relief.

"Marry me."

"You're a right git," she said almost in a shout. "That is probably the worst timing for a joke you could have ever chosen, Fred Weasley." She hit him on the arm, refusing to help him up from his position.

George chuckled to himself as Fred opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.

He sat up slowly and tried to stretch out his torso, feeling stiff from Roman's tackle. 

Fred caught Roman's eye and gave him a half smile. "I owe you one."

"I'll let you know when I'm redeeming." Roman dusted himself off, checking the condition of his wand soon after. "I'm gonna go look for Mikey."

Clara nodded curtly, Roman jogging away as soon as he could see a break in attacks.

Looking back at the twins, Clara immediately cast a spell past them towards the stairs, a Death Eater leaping to the right just in time to avoid it. "We need to move. Now."

The three made their way through two more corridors, moving people out of harm's way that were injured and taking out whatever enemies they could. They had run into Molly, adding her to their traveling group of saviors as their kill count increased. A group of Death Eaters attacked them in surprise as they reached another hall. George was being attacked by the Carrow sister, Fred and Molly were facing Fenrir Greyback, and Clara was fighting the Carrow brother. Everything continued with intensity until a peculiar feeling washed over both in and out of the castle.

" _You have fought valiantly–_ " a whisper echoed in Clara's mind. She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to fight off this invasion of her sanity.

Everyone had stopped in their tracks, Voldemort's voice taking full precedent.

" _–but in vain. I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilt is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity._

" _Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me._ "

The castle grew silent. Many of the Death Eaters took one last look at their would-be victims, then disappeared in their black, smokey trails.

Fred ran to his brother and pulled him up from the floor, then turned to Clara. "What do we do now?"

She sighed as she looked around her. Students were either hurt or crying in fear, many professors trying to get them to their feet to get them in a safer place. "Let's get the injured to the Great Hall. I'm not sure what to do with the others just yet." She cast a glance to a young girl to her left, her eyes still etched with fear after she had taken her last breath.

Fred nodded, and the group dispersed.

As Clara had suspected, a good amount of those injured were the younger witches and wizards. Luckily they had learned just enough in school so that they could protect themselves to a certain extent. Clara sat in the Great Hall with a few students, teaching some how to mend their comrades small wounds and bruises while Molly dealt with some of the bigger injuries.

Fred and George wrangled up who they could and helped to shake off some of the nerves that the students exhibited. They were telling jokes and stories, nearly doing anything to get a laugh of some kind.

When Arthur entered the Great Hall with Ginny, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur on his heels, Molly and the twins went up to them in relief. The entire family shared a moment of happiness, the only one missing from the picture being Ron.

Clara smirked as she saw it, happy that their family hadn't broken apart. They had Roman to thank for that.

As she looked around the room, she noted that neither one of her brothers had come into the Great Hall. She had already checked the growing amount of dead bodies on the floor to make sure they weren't there. They had to be somewhere in the castle.

"Clara!"

She stood up quickly at the voice and the panicked tone it held. Seamus was running through the front doors almost completely out of breath. "You've got to come. And quickly."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Clara's heart was pounding so loud in her ears that she could barely hear anything Seamus was saying. All she could make out was something about people running and curses rebounding everywhere. She heard mention of Griffin and something about Roman and Michael.

They rounded a corner sharply and Seamus' footsteps slowed. Clara followed, their breaths echoing throughout the nearly empty corridor.

Bodies and rubble where scattered everywhere. There was a gaping hole to Clara's right that allowed anyone to see out onto the main grounds. She was drenched in the moonlight that flooded in.

As she looked a bit further down the hall, she saw two familiar figures on the ground. One was kneeling over the other. When Clara's breaths slowed she could hear sobbing – deep breaths and whimpers.

She tried to walk over as quickly as she could but the closer she got, the heavier her steps became.

Behind her, she could hear Fred and George catching up to Seamus. Their strides shortened when they laid eyes on the scene before them.

Her mind was honed in on the person on the floor. She could see her brother's wand a few inches away from his hand as if he had reached for it with whatever fight he had left. His face was turned towards Clara. Empty eyes stared back at her where she used to find comfort and happiness. His once rosy cheeks were flushed of all love and life.

It didn't seem real.

She tried to focus on the body before her but tears started to flood her vision. Her knees grew weak. She fell to the floor on her hands and knees, a silent wail escaping from her mouth as her tears fell below her.

Her brother stopped kneeling and sat down next to the lifeless human on the ground, his face in his hands as his body trembled.

He was sad.

He was angry.

He was confused.

Why did it have to be him?

Fred rushed over to Clara, his hands steadying her as he brought her to sit up straight. Her sobs finally yielded a sound once her gaze fell over the body once again. She could hear Fred sniffling, knowing that he was trying to stay strong for her.

She couldn't keep it together.

"M-M-M-Mikey–" she stammered out, her breaths sharp and her chest rising and falling rapidly.

The only response she felt was Fred's arms wrapping around tighter from behind her.

Roman reached down and held Michael's hand. It was cold – unlike when he had held it earlier.

" _I'll see you both later._ " Michael's last words to him and his sister echoed in his head. They haunted Roman.

He let go of his brother's hand and stood up, staring down at the body once more. With a deep breath, Roman let out a roar of frustration that echoed throughout the halls that he himself once called home. He turned around to see his sister's tear stained face and red eyes looking at him in hurt and confusion. Walking to her, he pulled her up into a tight embrace. "Griffin. Griffin did it. I was too late."

For a minute, the two just cried.

Molly and Arthur rushed to where George was standing, having come after hearing Roman's yell. Molly covered her mouth in shock as tears welled in her eyes. "Mikey," she whispered.

Clara pulled away from Roman and took a deep breath. Her breaths were still unsteady, but she walked over to Michael and sat next to him. She moved his head so that his face was turned towards the ceiling, pushing his eyelids closed with her fingers. Another wave of tears pushed against her eyes as she stroked Michael's face. As the pad of her thumb brushed over his cheek, she was brought back to when she and Michael were much younger – to the night their father had been killed.

" _So Daddy isn't coming back?_ " Michael had whimpered.

" _No, Mikey_ ," Clara had admitted. She had stroked his cheek in the same manner she was doing now.

" _What if Griffin comes back for me?_ " he had asked her.

" _I'll never let him hurt you_ ," she had promised.

"I'll never let him hurt you…" she repeated to herself. Closing her eyes, she leaned down and kissed her brother on the forehead, then rested her head on Michael's chest as she cried more freely.

There was no heartbeat.

He took no breaths.

Clara's heart had broken.


	25. Chapter 25

Clara couldn't remember too much of what had happened after that. She remembered that Fred walked her back to the Great Hall so that she could calm down and rest up a bit. Everyone had started to go outside because Voldemort had returned to the castle with Harry. Something had happened that caught everyone off guard, but she didn't pay much attention to them.

The entire time she was focused on Griffin.

When Harry had leapt out of Hagrid's grasp, that's when she saw Griffin sprint towards her.

Clara lost sight of Fred in the chaos that had erupted, but she immediately ran into the castle and into one of the main corridors. Death Eaters and students were back at it again, but a crisp voice rang clear through the air.

"You can't run away forever, little sister."

She froze in her tracks. Clara gripped her wand until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were shut tight, fear welling up inside her.

_I'll never let him hurt you._

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her strength and turned to face Griffin.

"Why Mikey?" she asked him. "Why not me or Roman?"

"Oh it's way too much fun to mess with you two. We all know Michael was the accident child anyway," Griffin casually explained, looking over his wand for any damage. "And he was the apple of mum's eye–"

"–until you ruined her."

"Clara, I'm not the one that killed her, am I?"

Clara's jaw clenched.

"No matter, I'll deal with you like I did with Michael. Then I'll kill Roman and be finished with the lot of you."

Clara brought up her wand in defense as Griffin started to throw spell after spell at her. She watched as his twisted grin filled his face. They danced around one another. Griffin was attacking more than Clara was. What was she afraid of?

She had every reason to be upset with him. He killed her father. He brainwashed her mother. He killed her brother. Now it was only her and Roman left to keep the family going, and there was no way she was going to give him a chance to take that from her.

Offensive spells started to spew out of her wand as she yelled out in anger at her brother.

"Ooh, shouting like a savage isn't going to help you, little sister."

He was amused by her efforts.

"You should have finished school like the rest of us. You'd know how to protect yourself by now."

One quick jinx to her ankles and Clara immediately fell onto the floor beneath her. She could feel herself being lifted off the ground, then thrown against the wall opposite from her.

"OI!" a voice called from down the hall, followed by Griffin's cackle.

"Better take care of your damaged goods, Weasley!"

Fred knelt down next to Clara as she coughed, the wind that was knocked out of her returning.

"You hurt? Anything broken?"

Clara shook her head. "Kill him."

Fred nodded as he turned around to face Griffin.

"I heard you're in love with my whore of a sister."

"You shut your mouth, Caxton."

"Or what? You'll let your little army of a family loose on me?"

"Or we'll shut your mouth for you," Roman growled.

Griffin looked to his left and saw Roman standing a few yards away. His face was painted with a scowl that sent a small chill down his spine. He didn't dare show that he was afraid.

"Nice of you to join the party," Griffin welcomed, shaking off the curt feeling of fear. "Clarissa was much too boring anyway. I might as well take out all of the important men in her life so that I can make her death as slow and painful as possible."

Roman barely gave Griffin a chance to finish talking. He started to send spell after spell after spell towards his brother, Fred joining in to do the same. Roman was tired of hearing Griffin's hateful words. He was tired of Griffin taking away his family. He was tired of making Clara suffer though all of this.

"Is that all you've got?" Griffin shouted, his eyes wide in amusement.

Roman looked towards Fred who had his hand in his pocket. He immediately pulled the scarf that was tied around his neck over his face and shielded himself.

In an instant, the scene was covered from top to bottom in darkness.

Griffin looked from left to right in a panic, unsure of where his two opponents were.

"Cheap move, Weasley! Your stupid powder isn't going to help you!"

A quick pain in his side and sudden slamming into the wall opposite of him told Griffin he was wrong.

When the powder cleared, he was faced with Fred holding him up against the wall and Roman walking towards them slowly. Fred's face was one of determination and anger and Roman's was almost an exact mirror.

"What are you going to do? Kill me? Take your revenge for little Mikey and Dad?"

Roman didn't say a word to him. Griffin didn't deserve any form of explanation.

A small hand found its way to Roman's shoulder. He turned around and saw Clara, blood dripping from her mouth and her eyes filled with rage.

She looked up at her brother, receiving a nod in response.

They both stood and pointed their wands at Griffin.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA._ "

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

It was all over.

Clara still couldn't process it, even with everyone returning to the Burrow and finally being together again for the first time in a year. She and Molly were running around trying to make a large enough feast to accommodate everyone's hunger. It was the first time Clara had ever seen all of the Weasley siblings in one household.

She smirked as she saw Harry and Ginny peel away from the group for some privacy, Ron and Hermione not taking too long to do the same. She kneaded dough in the kitchen to make another pie while Molly and Arthur had gone upstairs to shower and rest from everything that had happened. Roman was with Bill, Charlie, George, and Percy in the parlor – Clara couldn't remember when she had heard that much laughter in the house.

"Need a hand?" a familiar voice called next to her.

Fred was looking down at her with the sweetest smile she had ever seen.

She smirked before leaning against him and taking a deep breath. "I feel…empty."

He nodded as he put an arm around her shoulders. "You're not the only one. But I'm here for you." He grabbed each of her flour covered hands and held them, forcing her to face him. "I'm always gonna be here, okay?"

Tears pushed against her eyes out of exhaustion and mourning as she nodded.

"Go take a nap. I can handle this."

The idea of sleep seemed heavenly, Clara thankful that Fred could take over for her.

She hesitated for a moment, though. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts. Not just yet.

"Actually Fred –"

"–I'll take over."

Clara and Fred turned to the entrance and saw Roman standing there.

"You two head up and rest. I'll finish the pie."

Clara looked at Fred, then back to Roman. Walking over, she reached her arms up and brought Roman into a warm embrace. They were silent for a few moments. "Don't burn the pies," she teased.

She felt him squeeze a little tighter before allowing her and Fred to walk upstairs.

Clara showered first, then Fred. As she waited, Clara looked around her room. A few clothes were strewn here and there. Her trunk was still wide open. Her old school books sat on the floor along with a few notebooks.

She walked over and picked up the top one. A small smirk formed on her face when she opened it. As she walked over to her bed and sat down, she reread a few of the conversations she and Michael had written to one another. Each joke and memory eased the pain little by little. She started to even laugh out loud at some of the jokes her brother had put in.

As she neared the end of the notebook, her laughter started to fade.

Clara didn't realize that on the last page, Michael had written her one last message:

_Clara –_

_I don’t know how much time we have left, but I think that the war is going to start soon. I've been helping with getting things organized with Neville. He's been relying on me quite a bit. It feels good to be able to help._

_I wanted to write this just in case something were to happen. I don’t know if you, Roman, and I will make it out of this…_

_Every day that I'm here, I get a little more scared. I'm worried that Griffin or Mum are gonna hurt you or Roman. Some days I don't even know if I can help with what Neville wants me to do._

_But you and Roman have been keeping me going at the same time._

_I want to thank you both for taking such good care of me. Without Dad and Mum…I know I wasn't the easiest to raise. You and Roman sacrificed so much for me and I don’t think I ever told you 'thank you'._

_So…thank you._

_I want you to also know that I officially approve of you and Fred. He told me he likes you (I don't know if I'm ruining any surprise or anything – but if he hasn't told you by now then I don’t know what to say) and I hope you two will be happy._

_In case things don't go well, you and Roman take care._

_I love you both._

_– Mikey_

Fred walked back into the bedroom as he dried his hair and saw tears running down Clara's face. He glanced down at the notebook in her hands and knew immediately what she was looking at.

When he had been out with George and Lee, he had received only one letter through those notebooks. Michael had written to him about being safe and taking care of Clara. Thinking back on it now, it seemed like Michael knew something the rest of them didn't. It was a haunting idea.

He knelt down in front of her and saw her eyes flick up to him, then back to the book. He reached over and closed the cover, set it on the side table, then climbed onto the bed next to her.

Immediately Clara curled into him, her eyes closed as she felt the weight of her heavy heart finally settle.

"He's the bravest person I know," Fred started randomly, staring off across the room as he wrapped his arms around Clara. "And none of this is your fault."

Clara nodded. "At least Griffin isn't around to ruin things anymore."

"Thank goodness for that."

Clara sat up and turned herself towards Fred. "Thank you."

He brought a hand up and caressed Clara's face. He made her to avoid her bruises and cuts. Her eyes were still so bright, even after everything that happened. He missed those eyes the most when he was gone.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips softly against hers. "Thank you."

"I did nothing," Clara replied softly.

"You gave me hope," Fred quickly replied. "You gave me a reason to press on. You gave me even more family to love and some of the best pie I've ever eaten."

A small smile ran across Clara's face.

"And you gave me your heart. I can never thank you enough for that."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

November rolled around sooner than expected. Roman had gone back with Charlie to Romania while the twins and Clara were running around the shop, trying to get things fixed and restocked.

They were going to reopen the next day now that Diagon Alley was back to its old self once again. There were constantly people peering into the shop through the large glass windows hoping to get a peek at what surprises were in store. There was a large grand reopening banner that was being held by the large Weasley figure on the top of the shop that let people know when they'd be ready for customers once again.

Clara stood at the foot of the stairs with a thoughtful look, taking a long hard look around the shop. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed.

"So did you decide yet?" Fred called down from the top of the stairs.

"I think so," she replied.

In a few moments, she was joined by her favorite red head.

"Where do you want it?"

"I want it here," she decided, pointing at the corner of the shop closest to the front door.

"Then that's where it'll be," Fred agreed, wrapping his arms around Clara from behind.

" _Mikey's Corner_ ," she said out loud.

It had been decided that since Michael had come up with so many new products for the shop, it was only right that he have a part of it dedicated to him. It was the least that Fred and George could do to preserve his memory. Their notebooks, new edible products, and other toys and contraptions that Michael had suggested to the twins would line the shelves and bring joy to everyone once the shop was rolling again.

Fred waved his wand and the corner soon changed. A banner hung itself across the corner as the shelves lined themselves with all of the new products. The corner changed color to bright green – Michael's favorite color – and even featured a few Quidditch figures that flew around playing a small version of the game.

Clara's smile was bright as she walked over and admired the corner. It screamed Michael. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it.

"It's perfect, Freddie."

"Good, I'm glad you like it." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "Can I ask you about something else?"

"Sure whaddyu ne–"

Clara turned around and saw Fred down on one knee. He held a ring in his hand, a small diamond attached to it. His eyes were steady and focused while his hands had a slight shake to them.

"Clarissa Marie Caxton," he began, "would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She smirked at Fred's nervousness.

"Hey, this is not a laughing matter!" he exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

Clara let out a large laugh as she walked over to Fred. During the past year after the war had mulled over, Clara and Fred had finally gotten the time together they deserved as a couple. It didn't differ much from when she had first joined them at the shop. They'd walk around the alley and make jokes with each other. They'd cook together upstairs in Fred and George's flat. They'd spend long nights together gazing at the stars and enjoying each other's company.

"Mr. Weasley, I've told you before – my answer will always be yes."

"I just had to be sure."

Fred stood up and took Clara's face in his hands, immediately landing a kiss on her lips. Her arms reached up and wrapped themselves around his shoulders, her fingers lacing themselves behind his neck.

Soon she felt herself being lifted off of the floor as she giggled in surprise. Fred had walked her over to a nearby counter and set her on it, his hands resting on her hips as he deepened the kiss.

"Oi! No snoggin' at the shop! I thought we made this very clear!" George joked from the doorway, his arms full of supplies and food for lunch.

"That was after I walked in on you and Angelina, you prat," Fred answered before continuing his kiss with Clara.

George rolled his eyes. "That was because she finally agreed to start dating me!"

"And this is because I agreed to marry Fred," Clara replied, as she held up her finger, now adorned with the ring Fred had given her.

George smiled. "Alright, I guess that's a good enough reason. Just remember to keep it clean – these are glass windows you know."

Clara rolled her eyes as she let her arms rest on Fred's shoulders, lost in the euphoria of his intoxicating kisses.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred woke up in a groggy state. He stretched his arms over his head then reached out next to him. He frowned slightly when he realized that he was alone.

"Looking for someone?" he heard a small voice call from the doorway.

Turning over, he saw Clara standing in a robe with a cup of coffee in her hand. "It's time to get up. It's not every day you reopen your shop."

Fred sat up and stretched his arms over his head. "We could always just stay here."

Clara sat next to him in their bed and handed him his coffee. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"But why not?" he asked slyly, sneaking her a kiss on the cheek. He winked at her which was rewarded with an eyeroll and a smile.

"Because," she replied, returning a kiss on his cheek, "Georgie would not be happy if we left him hanging. Now up you get!"

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred and George stood on the landing of the shop stairs gazing out over the numerous people that filled the shop. The grand reopening was a success. There were various children running around with their parents, admiring all of the things that were in their reach. Many people flocked to Mikey's Corner intrigued by the new toys and collectibles. Laughter and excitement reached every corner of the shop. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was finally bringing joy and happiness back into the wizarding world once again.

"Freddie…we did it."

"I know, Georgie, I know."

Fred looked below and smiled at a familiar sight that warmed his heart: his favorite brunette – her eyes full of excitement and wonder – as she helped a young boy decide what to buy.

She looked up at the twins as the boy pulled her hand towards Mikey's Corner. Her smile was bright as her gaze lingered on Fred for a few moments. She soon brought her attention to the child who was excitedly pointing at the quidditch figurines.

Fred chuckled and admired how they had really come full circle from two years prior.

He couldn't have been more thankful for the girl who had come into their shop and turned his whole life upside down.


	26. Epilogue

_19 Years Later_

"Have a good year! Remember to write!" Clara called out as the Hogwarts Express let out a great cloud of steam. Her oldest son was stretched out the window waving to his parents, uncles, aunts, and younger siblings as the train started to pull away from the station.

Clara, Fred, and George saw great success with the shop, and also great success in their own lives. Fred and Clara had married and had three children together. The oldest was named Michael Jr. – MJ for short, the second was named George, and the youngest was Natalie. Clara was currently pregnant with their fourth child, which they had just found out would be another boy.

George had married Angelina and had one son thus far whose name was Fred.

Clara and Angelina had no idea how they'd been duped so far as to let their husbands name their kids after one another. It seemed like such a Fred and George thing to do, Clara admitted.

Roman had found a girl to finally settle down with named Mary, having met when working with dragons in Romania. They were both taking a well-deserved vacation, though, as Mary was pregnant with their first daughter.

They, along with the trio and their families, stood on the platform as the train left the station.

"How do you think he'll do?" Clara asked Fred, her hand resting on her stomach.

"He'll be just fine. Hopefully Peeves takes it easy on him," Fred joked. He looked down at Clara who had rolled her eyes at him for what seemed like the millionth time that day. He kissed her swiftly on the cheek. "George and I are gonna head back to the shop. I'll see you tonight?"

"As always," she smiled.

Fred smiled back a she hugged and kissed little George and Natalie goodbye, quick on his twin's heels as they apparated out of the station.

Roman walked over to his sister and picked up Natalie and George, tossing them over his shoulder. "Where shall I take the trash out to?"

"Uncle Roma-a-a-a-an!" the little George whined. "I'm not trash!"

"Uncle Romy, put me down!" Natalie squealed.

Angelina and Mary chuckled as the young Fred started to punch Roman's legs. He was being attacked and now everyone was laughing too hard to help him.

"Alright you three," Clara finally interrupted, picking up Fred. "Let's all head back to the house. Lunch is waiting."

The three children walked with Angelina and Mary to the station's entrance, Clara and Roman a few steps behind.

"I don't know how you do it," Roman commented. "Those three are a handful, not to mention what it's like when all of them are at the house," he added, referring to the kids who had just left on the train.

Clara shrugged. "You get used to it. Besides, it's your crazy family too."

He laughed. "That's very true." He paused a moment. "I won't ever admit this to Mary," he started, looking at his wife as she played with Natalie on a nearby bench, "but I'm terrified of being a father."

His sister chuckled. "Roman the Protector afraid of a baby?"

He rolled his eyes as he let out a smile. "I'm serious!"

Clara shook her head as she wrapped her arm around Roman in a side hug. "You did fine taking care of Mikey and I. There's not much difference. You'll love and protect her just as much."

Roman nodded. "Mikey would have loved being here for all this."

Clara nodded. "Yes. Yes he would have."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

MJ was the same age as his cousins, Albus and Rose, and they were all excited to finally be going to the school that they had heard so many stories about from their parents.

The night flew by for each of them, MJ excited that he had been sorted into Gryffindor like his uncles and aunts. He was even more excited to write back to his mum and tell her about everything that was going on.

Even though he was at the school he had been dreaming about attending, he did miss helping at his father's shop. There was a corner there that had his name on it! Over the years, his dad and uncle had taught him various tricks and pranks (which drove his mother mad). The best thing to come out of it, though, was that he was able to help create products for the shop. His father even placed them into Mikey's Corner. The first time it had happened, he swore he saw his mother cry.

Even though he spent a lot of time with his dad and uncle, MJ had to admit that he was a mama's boy. He was extremely close to her, always helping where he could and making sure she was happy. He didn't know why he was like that, but he was sure that his mother appreciated it.

Later that night, MJ found that he couldn't sleep. He didn't know if it was the anxiousness of starting classes or something he ate that night at the feast, but either way he figured he wasn't sleeping any time soon. Looking over at his roommates to make sure they were sleeping, he snuck downstairs to the common room. He yawned as he looked at the fireplace, the embers within dying down after the older students had gone to bed.

As he looked around the room, he froze in his tracks. One of the Hogwarts ghosts was downstairs with him, and after the exhibition of Nearly Headless Nick that night, he wasn't quite sure if he was ready for another ghostly encounter.

The ghost's appearance was young-looking, his clothes not seeming as old as some of the other ghosts' looked. In fact, his uniform didn't look much different than the one that MJ had been assigned for the year.

The more MJ looked at this ghost, the more curious he got. The ghost's messy head of hair matched his own almost perfectly, and he could have sworn that his mother had pictures of him at the house.

"I know you," Michael told the ghost.

It turned around in surprise, unaware that he had been joined by this student. "How could you? I lived and died before your time." The ghost sounded almost saddened by this realization.

When the ghost had turned around, MJ knew that his hunch was correct. "No, no, I really do know you!" MJ exclaimed, his eyes bright as he walked over to the hovering image before him. "I'm…I'm Michael. Michael Caxton-Weasley Jr."

The ghost looked down at the boy, his eyes widening as he looked closely at the boy's features. "Your…your mum…"

"…is Clarissa Caxton-Weasley."

The boy watched as the ghost's eyes lit up with excitement. The ghost went zooming around the room with happiness, landing immediately back in front of the boy.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Michael."

"And it's nice to finally meet you, Uncle Mikey."

"We have lots of catching up to do."


	27. One Shot: The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One-Shot
> 
> Clara and Fred's Wedding

_"Why do we have to dress like this? Clara knows that I'm going to untuck my shirt before the ceremony even starts."_

_"Well, she's under enough stress as it is. I don't think you wanna add to that, do you?"_

_Michael rolled his eyes at his brother as he gave up his argument, allowing his brother to tie his tie and straighten out his dress robes. He glanced out of his window to see the Weasleys placing decorations and arranging flowers in the large tent that had been set up that morning. In all honesty, he thought Bill and Fleur were a little crazy to have their wedding at a time like this. They were on the brink of a wizarding war, and this is how they wanted to handle things? Clara had told him he was too young to understand what was going on. He teased her and said she was too old and was losing her mind._

_He looked back at his brother who was now looking in the floor length mirror at the opposite side of the room and tying his own tie._

_"Roman," Michael started, taking a seat on the bed._

__

__

_"Mm?" Roman grunted, trying to wipe a dirt stain off of his robes._

_"Do you think you'll ever get married?"_

_Roman let out a bigger laugh than Michael expected. "I'm already married, Mikey."_

_"Let me guess…to your job?"_

_Roman winked at Michael through his reflection in the mirror. "As it should be. Dragons are my life."_

_"Yeah, but don't you want more?"_

_Roman raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Since when did you get so sentimental?"_

_Michael looked at Roman more directly. "Just answer the question."_

_Roman pondered the thought as he looked himself over one last time. "Maybe."_

_Michael nodded. "Do you think Fred and Clara will get married?"_

_Roman laughed again. "They didn't even tell each other they like each other yet. At the rate they're going, you might be graduated and married by the time they even have their first kiss."_

_Michael chuckled. "Let's really hope not." He gazed around the room, lost in thought once again. "Roman?"_

_"Yes, Mikey: man-of-a-million-questions?"_

_"Who's going to walk Clara down the aisle if she gets married?"_

_Roman paused as he turned to Michael. Michael's face was torn between being curious and being sad for the loss of their father. Roman smirked as he walked over and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezing it briefly. "We'll toss a coin, how does that sound?"_

_Michael let out a small smile as he playfully pushed his brother's hand off of his shoulder. "Or we'll let her pick her favorite brother to walk her."_

_"Then you're giving yourself absolutely no chance!" Roman joked as the two started to leave their room._

_"That's what you think!" Michael called behind him as he jogged quickly down the stairs._

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Roman's eyes fluttered open slowly, his gazed fixed on the ceiling above him.

It was Clara's wedding day. It had taken her and Fred nearly two years to finally get through all of the planning and detail ironing, which Roman had to laugh at considering his conversation with Michael had been partially true. By now, Michael would have been graduated and maybe even had a girlfriend of his own.

He tossed his legs over the side of his bed and stretched his arms over his head. A loud groan was released as the tensions from his slumber started to slip away.

Roman had been having that same dream about Michael on and off for the past month, and it was especially prevalent after the rehearsal they had the night prior. Clara had asked Roman to walk her down the aisle since their father wouldn't be able to, and Michael's words had rung through his head like a church bell through a steeple.

He was excited for the day that was to come, but at the same time he almost felt beaten down by the reminders that it brought him.

The sound of the Weasley brothers in the kitchen told him it was time to start the day.

And what a day it would be.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"You're absolutely sure that you don't need help with anything?" Clara asked Molly for what seemed to be the bagillionth time that morning. "Flowers? Decorations? Food?"

Molly laughed as she took Clara's hand and pulled her into Clara's room where she would be getting ready for the day ahead. Clara's dress was hanging from the window opposite from the door, the light from outside pushing through it and making it look almost as if it had been hand stitched by angels. The ruby red bridesmaid dresses were lying on the bed to their left. The bouquet and garter were sitting on the dressing table to their right.

Molly sat Clara down on the stool that sat in the middle of all things. "I want you to take a deep breath, dearie."

Clara did as she was told, her eyes still darting from item to item to make sure things were where they needed to be.

"Clarissa, look at me."

Her eyes snapped to Molly's at the mention of her whole name.

"I need you to relax, sweetheart."

Molly's eyes conveyed the smile that had been on her face since the day had begun. Even with Clara's constant hounding and worrying, Molly hadn't wavered a bit. She understood what Clara was going through, and knew that no matter what happened that day, things were going to turn out just fine.

Clara's shoulders seemed to ease when she finally caught wind of Molly's relaxed aura. "I'm so sorry I'm just--"

"No need to explain to me," Molly interrupted. She grabbed a box from beside the bed and pulled it up in front of Clara so that she could sit on it. "I wanted to chat with you, just you and me, before all of the insanity really begins."

Clara smirked as Molly got settled, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

Molly paused and looked over Clara's features. "I wanted to give you some advice -- some motherly advice." She cleared her throat, feeling her words starting to get stuck before she even started. "I want to tell you, Clara, how proud I am of you."

"Proud?" Clara asked, confusion dusting her features.

"Yes, very proud. You have come so far in such a short time. You're only 21, but I know this journey has felt like lifetimes." She reached out and took both of Clara's hands in hers, looking down at them. She studied the smoothness of Clara's hands compared to the roughness of her own that foreshadowed the many more years of hard work that was to come. A few moments of silence passed between the two of them before she continued, "I've always told Fred he picked a good one."

Clara smirked as a tear rolled down her cheek -- the first of many that she would produce that day.

"Even if Fred hadn't picked you to be his wife, I want you to know that no matter what," Molly stated, bringing her gaze to Clara's with tear filled eyes, "you've always been like a daughter to me. And I hope that you'll always see me as someone to come to no matter what may happen."

Clara threw her arms around Molly as tears started to fall more freely. There were no words needed for Clara to express how much Molly meant to her, and how much of a mother Molly really had become for her. Through all of these years, to have someone be there for her the way Molly had was a great honor and privilege that Clara knew she would never ever be able to match, although she would try her hardest. It was a beautiful moment that cemented how much Clara wanted, and needed, to be a part of this family.

After a few minutes, Clara pulled away and the two of them wiped their tears, chuckling at themselves for getting so emotional so early.

"Alright, now that we've got that out of the way," Molly laughed, "we can get you started."

"Thank you, Mum, for everything." Clara sat herself back in her chair, her hand still holding Molly's.

Molly smiled as she wiped one last stray tear from Clara's face with the pad of her thumb. "Of course, dear."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"Are you going to lay in bed all day? Need I remind you that you do have somewhere to be in a few hours."

Fred turned over and saw his brother standing in the doorway, tie hanging around his neck and dress robes hanging over his arm.

"I've got plenty of time," Fred whined, pulling the covers back over his head. "I wouldn't be like this if we hadn't had so much fire whiskey last night."

"You were the one who insisted on going shot for shot with ickle Ronnie-kins. And he's knocked out cold on the couch," George teased. He was greeted by a pillow flying at his face, as well as a groan from his brother. "On the bright side, it's still going to be a great day and you'll be ready in no time at all really."

It had been decided that the groom and groomsmen would stay in the loft above the shop while the bride and bridesmaids would stay at the Burrow for the night prior to the wedding. The only addition to the group at the loft was Roman. He mentioned that he didn’t want to be around his sister prior to the wedding knowing how crazy she could get when it came to planning and organizing things.

Fred sat up and looked at his dresser, his own dress robes staring at him as his brother laid out his own next to them.

Although he wasn't showing it outright, he was ecstatic about what the day was going to bring. All the planning he and Clara had gone through had finally come to this. Of course it hadn't been easy, Fred and Clara having their first fights as a couple over silly things like what kind of decorations there were going to be or how many people were to be invited. In the end, it had all fallen together just as they wanted.

"How you feelin', mate?" George asked, sitting down next to his brother.

Fred paused as a small smile grew on his face. "Never better."

"Good, because your brother's just been sick in the living room and I'm not planning to clean it up," Roman announced from the doorway.

"Oh god…is he ever going to learn?" George asked rhetorically. "Bill or Charlie will help him. Our job is to get you ready first mate." George clapped Fred on the back firmly as he stood up and walked down the hall to grab a few more things to get them ready.

Roman walked in and leaned against the wall opposite from where Fred was sitting.

"Am I getting the big brother speech now?" Fred asked, unsure if he should have said it more jokingly or not.

Roman chuckled. "If you want it, I have one ready."

"Go for it," Fred invited.

Roman sighed, unsure of where to start as he ran a hand through his mop of hair. "You're a good man, Fred. I probably couldn't have picked a better one for my sister if I tried." He smiled at Fred, then started to change into his dress robes.

A few beats of silence went by before Fred asked, "Um…is that it?"

Roman looked back at him. "Why? Expecting more?"

Fred shrugged as he hopped onto the ground and walked towards Roman. "I figured you would have said something along the lines of 'I'm glad you're going to be my brother' or 'You better take care of my sister or else'." Fred mimicked Roman's deep tone slightly, eliciting a small laugh from the large man.

"Trust me, Fred. If I didn't think you'd make for a good brother or that you'd hurt my sister in any way, do you honestly think you'd still be around?"

Fred pursed his lips as Roman walked away with a laugh. "No, I suppose not," Fred admitted. "But I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Roman nodded in acknowledgement as George reentered the room.

"Anyone got a hangover cure for Ron?"

"I'll see what I can figure out. You know, if your brother drank with me more often we wouldn't have this problem," Roman teased.

Fred and George both laughed as Roman went to assist his future brothers.

George looked over at Fred who was holding his tie in his hands.

"You know, all those years ago, you lied to me."

Fred's eyebrows furrowed as he turned to his brother. "How d'you mean?"

George walked over to him. "Hiring our new worker: definitely a scheme to pick up a girl."

Fred laughed as he put an arm around his best man's shoulders. "I suppose you're right, Georgie. But look! Everything turned out okay."

"Thank goodness for that. And thank goodness she can take a joke."

"Do you think I'd marry someone who couldn't?"

"Touché," George chuckled. It was times like these that he appreciated the most with Fred. The times before something serious where they could crack any jokes they could think of to break the tension. It was their way of telling each other that everything was going to go alright, and that they had each other's back. He remembered Clara pointing it out one night and saying it was the strangest way for two people to communicate. But that was just how they were, and they liked it that way. "Alright, let's get you ready, mate."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

_"Now what on Earth is this for?" Clara asked, eyeing George and Roman out suspiciously. "The last time George planned something with a brother of mine, my hair turned into fifty shades of multiple colors and I had to make two people very, very bald."_

_"Aww, come on. You're going to be my official sister soon. You can't always be suspicious of me," George whined._

_"It's for that exact reason that I will forever be suspicious of you, George Weasley."_

_Roman chuckled as he pushed the gifts across the table closer to Clara and Fred. "I promise on dad's grave this this is no joke."_

_"It's a little something from the future brother-in-laws for you both."_

_Clara looked at Fred with an unsure expression, greeted by one of his trademark smiles. "I think we can trust them this time," he reassured her._

_"Okay, but just this once."_

_Fred laughed as he reached over and grabbed the box marked "Fred" and Clara marked the box with her own name._

_As they began to open their gifts, George began, "We know how much this whole thing means to you both--"_

_"--and we know how much you both wanted Mikey to be here."_

_Clara lifted the cover on her box and began to peel back the tissue paper within, Fred doing the same._

_He was the first one to let out a big sigh of overwhelming emotion. Pulling the tie out of the box, he immediately recognized it as one of Michael's school ties. The trademark red and gold of Gryffindor was easy to identify, and Michael's sewn in initials in green thread on the back was hard to miss._

_Clara placed a hand over her mouth as she reached for the garter. The red and gold tie that ran through the middle was trimmed with red lace, again with Michael's initials plain to see on the inside._

_"We figured this was a way for Mikey to be with you at the alter," George explained to Fred._

_"And for Mikey to walk you down the aisle," Roman finished to his sister._

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Fred stood at the altar, watching his groomsmen and the bridesmaids walk down from the house to where he was standing. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, that he almost didn't hear George whisper to him after he took residence next to his brother: "She looks beautiful, mate."

He took a deep breath as he straightened up, the crowd rising in anticipation of the bride.

Inside, Clara held her bouquet with tight hands, glancing outside through one of the windows at everyone that was there.

"You alright?" she heard Roman ask from beside her.

"Nervous," she quickly replied.

"You've fought off Death Eaters and crooks of all kinds, and now you're afraid of walking down the aisle?" he teased.

She quickly hit him on the arm as she huffed in irritation.

"Look, Clara, do you love Fred?"

Rolling her eyes, she looked at his brother as if he knew better than to ask that question.

He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. "Then I don't understand what the hold up is. Come on." He held out his arm for her. "Mikey and I are with you every step of the way."

She took a deep breath and let out a small smile as she linked arms with her big brother.

He squeezed her hand in reassurance and took a deep breath of her own. "Before we go, I just want to tell you: Dad would have been happy with this."

Clara remained silent, afraid that the tears pressing against her eyes would come flooding out if she uttered a word to her brother.

"And I want to tell you that…you're a pretty okay sister."

She rolled her eyes as the tension she was holding in immediately melted away. Hitting her brother on the arm once again, she replied, "You're pretty okay yourself."

With that, they began to walk down the aisle. Many people were in awe of Clara and how beautiful she looked.

None were in more awe, though, than Fred.

He watched as she seemed to float next to Roman in her gown that touched the ground before her. The dress accentuated her curves and sparkled just right in the light of the afternoon sun. Her hair was left down a curled, acting as curtains to her bare shoulders. Fred spotted her Hufflepuff necklace around her neck which made him smirk. Her lips were her signature deep red, just like the flowers in her bouquet, and her eyes were dusted with a light gold color. He could see her brown eyes beneath her veil, still getting lost in them even from a distance.

Roman kissed his sister on the cheek as he finished walking her down the aisle and proceeded to give her hand to Fred with an acknowledging nod.

As the couple stood hand in hand at the altar, everything seemed to swirl together. They couldn't hear the minister or the sniffles from the audience. All they could focus on was each other. Fred took in every curl in her hair, each beauty mark on her face, the small curve in her smile that she couldn't help but let slip out. Clara memorized every freckle that danced across Fred's nose, the way his fiery red hair seemed perfectly placed, his eyes that always seemed so happy and carefree.

And neither could wait to say the words they had been waiting years to recite to one another:

"I, Frederick, take you, Clarissa, for my wedded wife, to love and cherish, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward."

"I, Clarissa, take you, Frederick, for my wedded husband, to love and cherish, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The night was a festivity to remember. From the food to dancing to enjoying laughs with their loved ones, the wedding and reception was nothing short of perfect in everyone's eyes.

Clara sat talking with Hermione and Ginny, laughing at George's ridiculous dancing with Angelina on the dance floor when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley, but may I have this dance?" Fred stood with his arm extended to the bride, a bright smile on his face.

"Why, of course Mr. Weasley," she accepted, taking his arm and immediately being whisked away to the dance floor as a slow melody began to play.

He placed a hand on her waist and held Clara's hand in his own, resting his head against hers and inhaling the intoxicating scent of her perfume. Fred held her as close as he could, never wanting to let go.

"Tonight's been perfect," Clara whispered to him, her eyes closed as she enjoyed swaying back and forth with her husband.

"Mm," he agreed. "And you clean up pretty well."

"So I'm told," Clara replied with a laugh.

"Still just as humble as you were at Bill's wedding," Fred chuckled, dipping Clara towards the floor and bringing her back up, his nose and hers now touching as they resumed their dance.

"And now you're stuck with me."

Fred pecked her on the lips as he said, "And I'm 100% okay with that."

Looking around the room, he saw that his parents were dancing with one another, Roman was talking with a girl on the other side of the tent, and their groomsmen and bridesmaids were lost in conversation and laughs. It was a perfect time.

"Hey, you wanna see something?" Fred asked Clara.

With one eyebrow raised, he recognized Clara's suspicious expression.

Ignoring whether she was giving permission or not, Fred pulled Clara away from the festivities and around to the opposite side of the house.

"And where are you taking me, Fred Weasley?" Clara questioned with a smile. "We can't keep sneaking off from parties like this. People might think we're--"

Fred stopped the couple abruptly by kissing Clara with the most passion he could put out to her, her arms immediately finding their way around him to pull him closer.

"--up to something," she finished, nearly out of breath, as Fred walked away from her with a chuckle. She stood there stunned by the kiss for a moment, before following. She carried her dress a little ways and set it down when she saw Fred stop at the edge of the Burrow's property.

"You're always so worried," he commented, looking out over the swamps that surrounded his childhood home. The blanket of stars overhead made everything seem safe and secure, which he had always appreciated as he grew up. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed talking to Clara under those stars so often.

He felt arms wrap around his waist from behind him as he stood lost in his thoughts. He rested his hands on Clara's, bringing them up so that he could kiss each one.

"I love you, Freddie."

He turned around to face the woman that was now not only his best friend, but his wife. Grabbing one of her hands and holding it up towards the sky, he walked around her and wrapped his free arm around her waist. He wrote out the words "I love you" on the dark canvas above them and the two watched as the shooting stars followed his message's command.

A few moments passed as the couple watched the amazing display before them. Fred cupped Clara's face in his hand and brought her gaze to his.

Her eyes damp with tears, the day's events culminating into this moment they had together.

Fred leaned down and kissed Clara with a different kind of passion than what he had shown earlier. As he kissed his wife again, he reveled in the fact that he was the happiest he had ever been in his life. This woman was the one who completed him in every facet of the word.

They were both in love, ecstatic, and looking forward to what their future held for them.


	28. One Shot: Ghostly

He was more surprised than anyone to be staring down at his own body.

"Wait–how–"

His eyes were glassy and his body was outstretched on the ground. His clothes were disheveled and his hair was still a moppy mess. His expression was indeed one of surprise, and he was sure his expression now was still the same.

_Wait. How am I seeing this?_

Michael started to look at more than just his own body on the ground, then his heart – or where he thought his heart would have been – felt like it dropped.

But…could he really feel?

His eyes wandered from his body to his arms, back down to his legs. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but the more he stared at himself in this new form, the more shocked he became. He could literally _see through_ himself. His once sharp outline was now muddled with the air around him, his color changing from the various shades of pinks, cremes, and darker hues to different grays and blues.

He had become a ghost.

"MICHAEL!" a voice rang out through the hall.

Michael's head snapped to the voice. He watched as Roman ran to his lifeless body in the hall. Seamus and Neville had been right on his heels, but had slowed as Roman approached Michael's body.

The expression he saw on Roman's face was nothing short of heart breaking. It was the first time that Michael had seen Roman instantaneously start crying. He watched as his brother knelt down next to him to check for his pulse. When the beats never came, Roman brought his hand to his face and wept.

He could hear a set of footsteps leaving, noting Seamus' absence when he looked around the hall once more. The only person he could think that would be coming next was Clara.

Thinking back on his entire life, for having a sister he never really saw Clara cry. She and Roman were always too busy taking care of him and being strong for him to let those emotions slip out.

Michael started to panic for a moment, backing up until he could see a wall around his peripherals. Before he knew it, he had floated outside of the castle.

He stared wide eyed at the wall that was now six-inches from his face, then to his body once more, then back to the wall.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice came from his left.

He turned to see a woman with dark hair floating towards him. Her face was one of concern and worry as she looked upon her comrade.

Michael sighed as he looked at Helena Ravenclaw. Most of his friends knew her as the White Lady, but to him she was just "Helena". There were times when he’d stroll around random parts of the campus to clear his thoughts, and she would join him. Some days they’d talk, some days they’d just admire the beauty around them. He thought that she enjoyed the company — someone treating her as if she was normal. There were seldom any students who did that for her, as she had explained to him one day.

"I'm…I'm not sure."

She floated closer to him and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, not used to being able to reach out and actually touch him. "You're alright."

"Am I? I'm pretty sure I'm dead."

Helena nodded. "That may be true. Not everyone gets to come back, though."

"Why is that?" he asked her, still trying to adjust to the fact that he was now a Hogwarts ghost.

"No one is really sure. I assume that I'm here because of my mother…" She trailed off slightly. "As for you, I'm sure that there's something important that you still have to do. Or at least some way you can still help the students here. If not, then we wouldn't be having this conversation."

He wasn't really satisfied with her answer. How could the school need him more than his family did? Why couldn't he just fall back into his old body? Come back to life and really help the ones who needed him?

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

"And that's it? That's all I have to do?"

"Well, my boy, did you think being a Hogwarts ghost was going to be difficult?"

Nick clapped Michael on the back as they floated in the Great Hall.

"But…I dunno…I thought there'd be more to it."

Nick pondered for a moment. "Michael, believe me when I say that even though patrolling the halls and keeping ourselves entertained with students might not seem like much, sometimes we impact them more than you realize."

Michael nodded, thinking about his times with Helena.

"As besides," Nick continued, looking feverishly towards the entrance, "we wouldn't want you to become another Peeves…"

Michael smirked weakly.

The ghosts of Hogwarts had been kind enough to assist him in his transition. When he had first settled in to the castle after the battle, it wasn't hard to see that he was very out of place. He didn't know what he could and couldn't do, wasn't sure who he could and couldn't talk to. Where could he go? What were his limits?

Nearly Headless Nick had taken him under his wing. He wanted to train him to be another ghost of Gryffindor house, which seemed only appropriate since he was wearing the house's uniform. He had explained the ins and outs of the dorm, educated him in a little history about the place, and even showed him a spot where he could sort of "live". He used that term loosely considering the situation Michael was in.

As grateful as Michael was for the treatment, he was still having a hard time transitioning. He and the other ghosts helped with getting the castle back up into top form for the new school year, but if he wasn't helping he was hiding.

As the school year began, Michael tried to go into the halls to look after students as Nick had instructed.

It was difficult.

His friends would see him and either be frightened by his appearance or become overwhelmed with emotions. He had to be asked by Professor McGonagall to roam the halls only at night. He could see the pain in her face when she instructed him to do so.

But he agreed.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Many years later, Michael was patrolling the halls at night as usual. He considered himself almost like a vampire -- he roamed the halls by night and rested by day. He wasn't sure if it was a curse or a blessing that Filch considered him one of his favorite ghosts (mainly because he would get students in trouble for being out of bed).

Turning a corner, he was surprised to find a girl sitting by herself near the courtyard. He could hear distant sniffles. Floating closer, he found a small brunette. She was maybe a second year, dressed in pajamas and her cloak.

"Hello?" he called out.

The girl whipped around quickly, eyes wide when she realized what had stumbled upon her.

"Are…are you alright?" he asked.

The girl stood, still scared that she was being spoken to by a ghost. "I'm…I'm fine thank you."

Michael rolled his eyes as he moved closer to the girl. "You know you shouldn't be out this late."

She nodded.

"Then…what are you doing out here?"

Looking around, she replied, "I'm just…just…"

"Trying to lie to get out of being in trouble?"

Oh goodness, he sounded like Clara.

The thought of his sister hit him like a ton of bricks, but he never let it show on his expression.

The girl's shoulders slumped slightly as she looked down. "Am I going to lose points for my House?"

He looked at the insignia embroidered on the girl's robes and saw the gold and red that made his heart swell with pride. "Nah."

She looked up sharply in surprise. "I'm…I'm not?"

He shrugged. "I can't rat out a fellow Gryffindor, can I?"

Shaking her head. "No, probably not."

He gestured for her to follow him. "I'll take you back to the dormitory."

Slowly trailing behind him, the girl followed this ghost. She thought about how young he looked. He couldn't have been much older than her, and he definitely didn't talk as if he'd been a ghost for long. He was different than the other spirits in the castle.

"So why were you crying by yourself?"

She stopped halfway through their walk. "I was not crying."

Michael laughed, turning back to the girl in disbelief. "Perks of being a ghost. I've got great hearing you know."

"Really?"

Michael, for the first time in what felt like years, let out a large laugh. "Nah, I'm only pulling your leg."

The girl couldn't help but let a smirk slip out. "You're very mean."

"Be thankful I found you and Peeves didn't. Then you'd see what mean really means."

The girl swallowed as she looked all around and above them, hoping not to run into the pranking spirit.

"So, why were you crying?"

The girl was quiet for a few moments. "I miss my family. A lot."

Before the girl knew it, she had completely walked through Michael. She paused in fear when she did so, not knowing if anything would happen to her or him when she did so. Turning around, she could quickly see pain in Michael's face as his expression was fixed dead ahead of him.

"I miss mine, too," he replied.

Walking back, she stood in front of him. "What's your name?"

"Michael. But most people call me Mikey."

"That's not a very ghostly-name."

"What's your name, then?"

"Daisy."

"That's not a very person-y name."

She rolled her eyes again as she folded her arms.

"Come on, Flower Girl," Michael teased, floating ahead of her.

Silence settled between the two once more as they continued their journey.

"How come I don't see you during the day?" she asked randomly.

He shrugged. "I haven't been a ghost for too long. Too many people know me."

"When did you die?"

"During the battle."

No more words were shared between the two as the heaviness of Michael's circumstances weighed in on both parties.

When they approached the Fat Lady's portrait, Daisy turned to Michael. "You know, you could probably come back out during the day. You could help a lot of people."

He smirked. "Only those who cry near courtyards."

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

He shook his head, disappearing into the wall now that his task was complete.

She huffed slightly before turning to the Fat Lady. " _Dragon Egg._ "

The portrait didn't move.

" _Dragon Egg_ ," she said more forcefully.

Still nothing happened.

Daisy groaned loudly as she nearly said in a shout, " _Dragon Egg!_ "

"If you haven't noticed," Michael started, sticking his head out of the portrait, "that password is no longer in use."

His sudden appearance made Daisy squeak and fall backwards. She sent a glare up to Michael as she stood back up on her own two feet and put her hands on her hips. "Really? Had no idea."

"I could tell. You kept using the wrong password."

"Are you always this snarky?"

"I think death has made me snarkier."

Daisy threw her hands in the air and sat on the top of the staircase before her. "I guess I'll have to wait until morning."

"Or you could ask me nicely."

She sat silently.

Michael huffed as he looked at the Fat Lady. "Salve!"

She nodded at him kindly as she swung the portrait hole open for him.

Daisy turned around in awe as she stood up and walked in towards where Michael was now hovering.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

He nodded. "Stay out of trouble now."

As he started to float away, she called out to him, "So are you gonna come out more often?"

He paused, looking back at the girl who seemed desperate not to lose her new friend. "Maybe."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Two years passed since his encounter with Daisy, and Michael found himself sitting up at the Astronomy Tower during a late night.

"I thought I'd find you here," a soft voice called from behind him.

He smiled in recognition of the voice. "I'm always here."

Helena came up next to him and shared in his view. "Especially on your Death Day."

He nodded. "Did it get easier for you?"

"Somewhat. I think once I found my place here, it made things a little more bearable."

Michael smirked.

"You've definitely found your place. Now that you're going around during the day helping students, I think they really like you."

He shrugged. "I just treat them like family."

She placed a hand on his shoulder which forced him to look at her. "And for some of them, that's a great help."

He looked at her sweetly before returning his gaze to the grounds that had become his permanent home. "In all honesty, I think it's helped me more."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! Please let me know if you liked/didn't like it, or what else you'd like to see me write about :) Thank you for your support!
> 
> With Love,  
> sparrowlina


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